


The Worst Goddamn Angel I've Ever Met

by TheVelvetCoatedWonder



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (Mini version), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Skip Beat! Fusion, Angst, Choreographer Keith (Voltron), Crack, Dancer Keith (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hip hop dancer Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Memes, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pastel Goth Lance (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Pole Dancer Keith (Voltron), Punk Keith (Voltron), Slow Burn, Smut, Victoria's Secret Angel!Lance, choreographer!Keith, model!Lance, model!keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2018-11-13 22:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 124,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11194704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVelvetCoatedWonder/pseuds/TheVelvetCoatedWonder
Summary: Every year, Shiro gets Keith to watch the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show with him. And this year, world renowned fashion model and Victoria's Secret Angel Lance McClain catches Keith's eye. Keith is well on his way to becoming a super fan, enamored with Lance's wit and charm in his public persona, but after an awful chance encounter with the model, Keith decides to enter the modelling world himself and show up Lance... for revenge reasons. And revenge reasons only. Definitely not gay reasons. Nope.Updates every other Saturday!(If it seems like there's a lot of tags, it's bc they all apply to a specific modeling job or arc. I promise they're not just punk pole dancing models all at once. Though that would be cool.)





	1. Sea Dream Fantasy Bra

**Author's Note:**

  * For [6licoricesticks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/6licoricesticks/gifts).



> So. This is my first fanfic- I have a bad habit of telling my sister headcanons and spinning stories for her, but none of them ever make it to paper. Funnily enough, we were trying to remember some such story when suddenly she suggested a modelling au, and suddenly, at midnight, at my grandma's house, on a pull out couch, we typed up an outline and then two weeks later I started this fic for her. We're living apart from each other for the summer, so this is kinda like my gift to her. Totally self-indulgent, barely self-betaed, and a little bit tongue-in-cheek. Suffice to say, thank 6licoricesticks for this. NOW, ONTO THE FIC!  
> edit 5/7/2018: You can contact me on instagram @velvetcoatedwonder with any questions- come talk to me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note July 3 2018: There is an illustration at the end of the chapter with Lance's VS outfit (do not @ me for how long it took me to post the photos, they've been on her tumblr for a while, hopefully that's okay???)

Keith didn’t know if he’d ever understand Shiro’s love for the Victoria’s Secret Angels. Sure, fancy underwear was great and all, but Keith didn’t understand why Shiro would choose to obsess over something that was oh-so-clearly going nowhere. Keith personally thought that Matt, Shiro’s boyfriend, would never let the lacy get-ups anywhere near his body. He’d probably make Shiro wear it, if anything. But as long as it made his brother happy, Keith didn’t really care.

Take tonight for example. Shiro was curled up on his couch on a Friday night, with only Keith for company while he watched the annual Victoria’s Secret fashion show, and he was behaving like a kid on Christmas. He was oohing and aahing over every oiled up body that strutted down the runway, and was saying things to Keith like, “I love that asymmetrical bodysuit,” and “I can’t believe that color scheme on that print works, but it totally does.”

It was like Shiro was speaking a foreign language to Keith, he just didn’t get it. Sure, they looked pretty, but underwear was underwear in his opinion. But he was Shiro’s brother, and Matt was shipped off overseas for some super-secret ultra-high-tech something or other, and he wasn’t going to leave Shiro alone for one of the man’s favorite media events of the year. 

Besides, it wasn’t all that bad. Some of the Angels were really, _really_ pretty. Any male model that walked down the runway reminded Keith of why he was gay in the first place. The lean, muscled bodies and the long legs and torsos that were the brand’s ideal body type reminded Keith of every single one of his favorite things about boys.

There was one model in particular that had been featured on the show for a couple years now, some Cuban foreign named Lance, that really made Keith not mind sitting through all the ridiculous hullabaloo. The boy had a million watt smile and eyes that should be illegal. That, in addition to his electrifying, untouchable energy on the runway, had Keith more willing than he should’ve been to sit on Shiro’s couch and watch half naked bodies for well over an hour. 

Shiro knew about Keith’s penchant for one certain model over the rest; he’d figured it out when Keith had spent the entire day after last year’s show attempting to subtly ask questions about the model. However, Keith’s idea of subtlety was like a semi truck to Shiro, and so he could tell that Keith was getting antsier as the night wore on, looking for his favorite model.

Shiro finally had to put his brother out of his misery, “Y’know, you won’t get to see Lance until the very end of tonight.”

Keith turned around to look at Shiro, eyebrows knitted upward in confusion, “Why not?”

Shiro grinned, “Because he’s wearing the Fantasy Bra tonight.”

“What is that.” Keith said flatly.

“A bra worth literally millions of dollars, studded in gemstones, and one of the highest honors a Victoria’s Secret Angel can receive. That any fashion model could receive, really.”

“And they’re gonna let a guy wear it?” Keith asked.

“Yep!” Shiro’s excitement was tangible. “He’s going to be the first, and he’s also making waves because he’s a Latino mod- Look! There he is!”

Sure enough, the announcer was beginning to provide his pre-rehearsed spiel about this year’s bra, the Sea Dream bra, and about how its name was a subtle homage to Tyra Banks’ bra, and what gems were on it, aquamarines and pearls and all sorts of stuff Keith didn’t really care about but that he knew Shiro was going to be talking about later.

Keith was concerned with who was wearing the bra, because _Jesus Christ_ Lance McClain looked amazing. Untouchable, steamy eyes that were the bright blue of the Caribbean sea, with an incredibly well self-possessed and yet mischievous look on his face- and Keith would swear before Victoria and all her angels right then and there that the model’s legs had gotten longer since last year. Was that even fuckin’ possible?

Clearly, it was, as there was living proof right in front of him. When Lance turned around to make his way back up the catwalk, Keith let an audible hiss out through his teeth. The model was wearing a thong this year, and holy shit that ass bounced with every step. Bounced like a goddamn bouncy ball. Or something. Keith was bad with metaphors, especially when all the blood in his body was rushing towards his dick at a breakneck pace.

The show was over all too soon, and Keith could feel Shiro grinning at him like the cheshire cat from across the couch. Keith would have stood and made a break for it, but if he moved right now his sweatpants would definitely reveal the stiffy he was sporting.

“So…” Shiro said.

“Shut it, Shiro,” Keith growled.

“It’s perfectly fine to have a favorite- that’s all I was going to say.” 

“He’s not my favorite,” Keith growled out.

“You ought to look up his interviews and other photo shoots, you might like his personality as much as his ass-”

“SHIRO!” Keith shrieked.

“His assets, Keith. I was going to say his assets.” Shiro’s smirk was positively sadistic. 

~~~~~

Keith would never willingly admit to taking Shiro’s advice for something as pathetic as this, but he spent the next two days looking up every interview and ad campaign Lance McClain had ever done. He’d watched him speak out over immigration issues, looked at him flaunting his ass for gravure photo shoots, and tonight he’d found some chick on tumblr who’d compiled all his foreign interviews and subtitled them in English.

Keith was so engrossed in them that he forgot to eat dinner, and when he finally looked up he realized it was close to midnight.

“Fuck,” he muttered. The only thing open this late would be the corner store, and while he wasn’t averse to the idea of junk food for dinner, his neighborhood was affluent enough that the prices there were sky high.

Keith’s job as a choreographer meant that he worked with some pretty posh people, and the dance studio he was currently with was only a few streets over, making his current apartment's location highly convenient. However, it was filled with overly-preened, self-righteous pricks who thought that just because they’d made it in L.A., they got to treat everyone else like dog shit under their shoes.

But at nearly midnight, the convenience store should be deserted, and Keith had literally no fuckin’ food in his house.

Slipping on a pair of slides and pulling up the hood on his sweatshirt, Keith grabbed his wallet, phone and keys and headed out.

Keith’s guess had been right on the money; he was the only person in the entire place. He’d finished prowling the instant noodle section, and was looking over the drinks when he heard the automatic door woosh open behind him. Keith turned around, curious to see what kind of person in _this_ neighborhood needed to go shopping at fuck-all knows when. They were in sweats, like Keith, with their hood up, like Keith, but unlike Keith’s laid-back browsing, this person seemed to be on a mission. They snatched up a basket and swooped through the chip aisle, sweeping up two different kinds of Doritos and a bag of Cheetos. They then stalked down the candy aisle, grabbing a bag of every kind of chocolate available and dumping it into their basket. They then stopped before the drinks cooler, surveying their choices for only a moment before Keith let out a gasp.

It was Lance. Lance McClain. In the shitty corner store beside his apartment. At midnight. It was Lance fucking McClain- looking shitty as _fuck_. His hair was messy and his lips were chapped and the side of his face looked smooshed in, like he’d fallen asleep with all of his bodyweight on one cheek.

The model turned to give Keith a blank stare. 

“Y-You’re- holy shit, I love your work so much- you’re so beautiful and every shoot you do looks so good-” Keith cut himself off before he could embarrass himself any further, giving Lance a chance to speak. The model was polite, humble, and charming in every interview Keith had seen, and he’d seen a lot of them these past two days, but that was nowhere to be found in the person standing across from Keith.

Lance eyed him up and down before snorting derisively and yanking open the drinks cooler, “Yeah, of course I’m _good_. You don’t get to wear the fucking Victoria’s Secret Fantasy Bra if you’re subpar now, do you?” He pulled out a chocolate milk, before considering a moment and grabbing two more. “Always nice to meet a fan, but usually they’re not creepy fanboys who use me for their dirty fantasies- thanks for making me feel appreciated, by the way, people like you are the reason I sometimes hate this job.”

“E-Excuse me?” Keith was stunned. “I-I’m not some… some _fanboy_ , I genuinely think you have a lot of talent and-”

Lance cut him off. “Your clothes are absolutely filthy, you’re rocking a mullet from Texas, and you just talked to me out of nowhere- little bit creepy.”

By now they were both at the checkout counter, and Lance simply slammed down his basket and pulled out a wad of bills, throwing them at the cashier. 

“Keep the change,” He said dismissively, before grabbing his food and waltzing out the doors, the woosh of them closing behind him sounding overly dramatic in the sudden silence of the convenience store.

The clerk looked up at Keith, who was still frozen in place, the illusion of kind, funny, sexy Lance McClain lying shattered at his feet by the unkempt, haughty, rude individual who he’d just encountered. 

“Sir?”

Keith slammed his things down on the counter too, grabbing an energy drink to add to his pile. He wasn’t going to sleep tonight. He was fuming, and he was going to show up Lance fucking McClain if it was the last thing he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, Lance isn't heartless or awful or anything, he's just... got stuff happening. and poor bb keef got the worst of it.  
> ALSO! if you google the fantasy treasure bra, you can get a pretty good idea of what I put Lance in. You're welcome.
> 
> Note July 3 2018: OR if you wanna see an illustration, click [here](https://6licoricesticks.tumblr.com/image/162509421444) or look below!


	2. Cheeky Slip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith wants revenge, and Lance wants to take everything back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the feedback, every comment and kudos means so much to me, and I hope you guys are enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it!

By five a.m., Keith Kogane had a plan. It was by no means a detailed plan, but it was a plan.

When he got back home, he’d nearly closed out of the girl’s tumblr without a second thought, but the very next video he’d been planning to watch gave him pause. The title was just _Lance McClain Interview on Chinese Morning News_ , but the caption beneath, which he hadn’t read, said _Lance McClain, international fashion model and Victoria’s Secret Angel, opens up on how he started modeling, and gives his fans tips on how to be a successful model_. 

Now there was an idea. He’d take revenge on Lance by becoming an even bigger model than he was, and when Keith was on top of the fashion world, he’d tell every news and media outlet out there that Lance McClain was not kind or sweet or funny, but instead an incredibly mean, selfish prick.

He watched the interview, learning that Lance’s very first contract had been with Galra Modelling Inc., a tidbit that was not on his Wikipedia page- Keith would know, he’d read the entire article, several times over- and his advice to any model starting out was to make every shoot feel like a performance. An intimate performance, just between you and the camera, with you channeling whatever emotion the director told you to channel and looking into the lens like it was whatever person made you feel said emotion most strongly. 

Keith resolved he’d channel seduction, eroticism and rage into every camera he looked at, and imagine Lance’s face on every camera lens he saw, because even though he now hated the person, he still loved the face. 

When Keith had been clicking through some of the photos Lance had taken under Galra orders, sometime around three thirty a.m., he found himself getting the angriest rage boner of his life. How dare Lance still look that innocent and alluring when he was silently mocking everyone who looked at that picture? Keith had almost wanted to just wait until he went soft again, not giving Lance McClain the satisfaction of being right when he said that Keith probably used him for his dirty little fantasies. Almost. Angry boners led to some of Keith’s best orgasms. 

Keith’s plan was this: he’d use his connections at the studio and with his clients to get an interview with Galra Modelling. From there, he’d convince them to hire him because of his exotic racially ambiguous looks and killer physique. Then, he’d accept any and every job that came his way, until he could firmly trounce any influence Lance held in the modelling world. 

While Keith was aware that the details of his plan were hazy at best, he went to bed with the cavalier feeling _of how bad can it be?_

~~~~~

“You called him a _creepy fanboy_?” Pidge shrieked.

The Lance-shaped blanket burrito flinched, “Leave me alone to die in peace.”

Pidge shook her head and crossed her arms, “No, see, I don’t think I can, because Hunk and I came over to comfort you after the fiasco that was last night, only to find out you cussed out a fan and practically accused him of sexual assault?”

Hunk, from where he sat near where he thought Lance’s hips were, glared at Pidge before addressing Lance. “It’s not your fault, Lance.”

The blanket burrito huffed at his friend. 

“Okay, maybe it’s a little your fault, but you _know_ you would’ve never said those things in the first place if Rolo hadn’t riled you up like that, and you _definitely_ know that you didn’t mean a word of it.” 

“Yeah man, what even happened last night, I never actually heard the whole story.” Pidge crawled over the Lance-shaped lump, giving absolutely zero fucks when Lance squealed in protest, curling up in the middle of the bed near her friend’s head.

When no answer was immediately forthcoming she nuzzled her head gently against Lance’s. With a groan, Lance threw the blankets off himself. 

“It’s really not fair when you start cuddling me.” He glared at Pidge, despite immediately leaning into her side. “You _know_ I can’t hold out against the cuddling.”

“I hate physical displays of affection, so if I give it to you freely you’d better take me up on it, dumbass,” she said, voice warm.

Lance nodded miserably into the space between her chest and arm, acknowledging her logic while hiding his face from the room. Hunk rubbed his back soothingly, “Why don’t you just walk us through the evening, Lance? You said you were fine when you left the after party last night, but clearly that ended up not being the case.”

“Fine,” Lance huffed. “So we finished up the shoot, everything went fine, and we all headed to the after party, you guys were all there, you saw Rolo. He can’t stand the fact that if I’m in the room Nyma won’t look at him, like, sorry dude, it’s not my fault your girlfriend has a thing for me, what am I supposed to do about it, but his agent wasn’t there, so there wasn’t anyone keeping his drinking in check, and he ended up even more shitfaced than usual. He cornered me and started going on and on about how I can’t get any shoots unless they're slutty, and like, excuse you, I get more job offers than I’m even aware of, my agent just knows I like lingerie best, and he starts talking about how he’s glad he was never accepted on at Victoria’s Secret, because he wouldn’t want to just be another piece of meat for men to drool over, and all the usual shit he does-”

Hunk cut him off, because tears had started leaking from Lance’s eyes, and he was beginning to blubber pitifully. “Breathe, buddy, breathe. Take your time.”

Lance nodded jerkily and waited until his breathing had evened out to keep going. “Anyway, he said shit about how anyone could do the job I do, and about how anyone could be the Latino face of the modelling world, and like- I get that I’m replaceable. I know that. I have no delusions about what my worth is to the modelling world- but when Rolo said them- he hit a lot of nerves. So I just did my best to get away from him as quick as possible, booked my way home, power cried in the shower for ten minutes and fell asleep on the sofa. Woke up and wasn’t ready to end the pity party, so I went to the little corner store two blocks over and just binged on everything Allura would kill me for eating. God, I hadn’t had a Dorito in six months before last night.” 

Hunk cleared his throat to remind Lance to stay on topic. “A-anyway,” Lance continued. “There was a guy in there, and he was like- really cute. Really, really, cute, shit he was so cute. And he knew me, he was all starstruck and excited to meet me, but he said something about how every photoshoot I do looks good and before I even realized it I was like- taking my whole night out on the guy. I just rammed him. I said some terrible, terrible shit. I think fanboy was the worst of it. I _hope_ fanboy was the worst it. I was embarrassed as soon as the words came out of my mouth. I just high tailed it out of there and tried to forget about it even while it was happening.”

Pidge just pet Lance’s hair in the few moments of silence that followed after all of the word vomit.

“God,” Lance breathed. “I can’t believe I treated one of my fans like that. He probably hates me now.” He looked up at Hunk, fresh tears welling in his eyes, “I made a cute boy hate me,” he wailed. 

“And there’s our cue to put Lance back to bed?” Pidge said hopefully.

Hunk stared at her, unimpressed, until she grumbled and scooted over far enough that Hunk could curl up on the other side of Lance. 

“It’ll be fine,” Hunk soothed, “I’m sure he just thought you were being grumpy and having a bad day.”

Lance nodded, latching onto Hunk’s words frantically and holding them close to his chest. At least he’d never see him again, he never saw fans twice, but it would be awful if he did, because Lance didn’t know if he’d ever be able to apologize for his behavior in a way that adequately made up for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have like the next five chapters written up, and I'm going to post every Saturday from now on. Feel free to subscribe for updates! Also, my sister has decided she wants to illustrate this fic, so look forward to that, too!


	3. Bold Lacy Plunge Bra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith gets a job, Lance Freaks Out™, and I shamelessly write Shiro as the soft, pillowy man I know he deserves to be.

It was almost too easy. Keith had mentioned his newfound interest in modelling during his next shift at the dance studio, an afternoon of urban salsa for beginners, and had walked out of the conversation with not one, not two, but three business cards for different modelling agencies, one of which was Galra Modelling. He’d called the number on the card, and gotten a coolly polite secretary who informed him of their next closed modelling call.

Keith was amazed that it was a closed one- that meant he wouldn’t have to deal with people coming in off the streets looking for a job, only other hopeful models looking to get signed on with this particular company. While a part of him was impressed that the dance studio’s name went so far, there was another part of him that was nervous about having to audition against other models.

However, Keith needn’t have worried. When the time for the audition came, he and a dozen other models were all lined up in a mirrored studio, and several men in professional suits came in to look them over with a critical eye that belonged more in a cattle sale. One of them opened his mouth and announced, “We’re looking for masculine men, so all of you effeminates can go home.”

Immediately, everyone except Keith and two other men left the room. Keith was amazed at the fact that Galra wouldn’t even inform its potential employees which types of auditions they were eligible and which they weren’t, but he kept his mouth shut. Maybe this was normal in the modelling world?

The suits further dismissed the man to Keith’s left, who was the very definition of masculine, but with a beard and body hair the Galra agents didn’t care for. With three men and two models, the employees moved off to one side of the room, looking over the models’ files and finally seeming to come to some sort of conclusion. One of the men left the room, while the other two each approached one of the models.

“My name is Ulaz,” the one directly in front of Keith said, “And you will be under my care for the length of your trial period here at Galra modelling. If you’ll follow me to my office.”

“Nice to meet you- my name is Keith, and I uh, look forward to working with you?”

Ulaz threw an amused glance over his shoulder, “I know your name, Keith, I have your file right here, but thank you for the introduction anyway.”

“Oh.” Now he felt a little dumb.

“Right this way,” the man said, opening the door to his office and gesturing Keith inside.

He sat down, perching on the very edge of his seat, while Ulaz calmly sat across from him, tapping away at something on his computer.

“We accepted you because your sheet here says you have extensive experience with dancing, specifically hip hop, pole dancing, and salsa. Can you expand on that?”

“Well, uh, I’ve taught dance for several years now, in addition to offering my skills as a choreographer for individual clients, and I’ve taken dance classes for most of my life. There aren’t many types of dances out there that I don’t have at least some experience with.” Keith ran a hand through his hair, unused to talking about himself.

“I danced on a hip hop team for a long time as a teenager before I started teaching it, and I’ve never pole danced as, uh, a job or anything, but I have several years experience there, too. Never taught a full class on it, but I have done some choreography work for clients that wanted a routine incorporating it. As for salsa, I did it competitively for a couple of years on a local junior circuit. I can’t do anything really advanced, but I’ve taught the beginner and intermediate class since I started at the studio I currently work at and I’ve never gotten any complaints with my work.” 

“Hmmm,” Ulaz mused, face unreadable, “So would you say that you are capable of putting on performances?”

Keith nodded. This was where he sold it. This was where he made them see that they had to have him, that he was bringing something to the table no one else had, not even Lance fucking McClain. 

“I can bring a raw sensuality to my modelling just like I do with my pole dancing, and the same sort of intimidating masculinity that I bring to my hip hop. I know I don’t have a portfolio or any previous experience, but I’m telling you, I’ll be able to give Galra Modelling something they don’t have in any other model here.”

Ulaz huffed a laugh through his nose. “Confident, aren’t you? But no matter. At your earliest convenience, we’ll take you for glamor shots, and put you through some workshops on posing for the camera and such. You can expect to be in a shoot by next week… in fact I think I already have one in mind for you. However, be aware that if we don’t see satisfactory results in these first few shoots,” He levelled a blank stare at Keith and said in an ominous tone, “We _will_ let you go.”

Keith swallowed. He could do this. 

~~~

Keith was not sure he could do this. The glamor shots had been okay; some simple headshots and full body shots that Ulaz immediately set about using to bring Keith his first gig. The workshops, though… 

“I never thought standing in front of a camera could be so hard! All those ‘natural’ poses models make, there’s nothing natural about them!” Keith was pacing back and forth in front of Shiro, who was stirring a pot of soup and wearing a ruffled, polka dot apron that Keith had gotten him as a gag gift years ago. Shiro still wore it, because it was a gift, and it was from Keith, and that was just the sort of big brother Shiro was.

“I mean,” Keith continued, “I consider myself to be in pretty good shape, but after twisting and turning the ways they told me to, I’m sore in places I didn’t even think could _be_ sore.”

“Well,” Shiro said slowly, staring into the soup like it held the secrets of the universe, and not like he was a six foot beefcake dressed like a conservative Republican housewife, “I think that deciding to get into modelling for something as arbitrary as chasing your crush means you deserve every ache and pain you get. You can’t make light of his profession by using it as a way to get closer to him, Keith.” He looked at his brother, eyes big and reproachful, “That’s a bit disrespectful.” 

“I’m not trying to get _close_ to him, I’m trying to crush him into dust and expose him as the fraud he is!” Keith said darkly.

Shiro pointed at Keith with the soup ladle, “Keith, I thought we left the emo, rage-filled persona behind us. Being mean to the boys you like will not win them over to your side, you know that, right?”

“I’m not trying to win him over, I’m trying to win over him! End of story! I want to see him broken and crying, and stuck in ill-fitting sweatpants that do nothing for his ass for the rest of his days!”

Shiro sighed, used to his little brother’s tantrums and impervious to his dark threats of violence. “Could you set the table? The soup bowls, please.”

“Are you even listening to me?” Keith asked.

Before Shiro could answer, Keith’s ringtone cut through the air.

When he answered it, Ulaz’s smooth voice greeted him with absolutely no preamble, “I have a shoot for you next Tuesday. Be here at seven, I want you onsite at the shoot at eight, they want to start by ten and be done before midnight.”

“That’s- that’s a long time,” Keith said.

“Yes, well, one never knows what might go wrong at these things, you’ll find that out very quickly, I expect.” 

“I- I see.” 

Ulaz ended the call with no further preamble, leaving a million half-formed thoughts flying through Keith’s head. Was he expected to do any grooming for tomorrow? Was he being driven to the shoot? Was Ulaz going to be with him for the whole day?

Behind him, Shiro cleared his throat, “Uh, Keith? What was that about?”

Keith turned around, “I have a shoot. A modelling shoot. Next Tuesday.” He said, warmth blooming inside him.

Shiro turned back towards the soup, slipping off his apron. “That’s great, but I really do need you to get out the soup bowls.”

~~~

Lance was going to die, and it was going to be his own damn fault.

If he’d only followed that religious pamphlet’s advice, and chosen the girl God had in mind for him. But no, he was a greedy, bisexual heathen, and so was stuck dwelling on the corner store encounter like the pathetic piece of perfectly groomed trash he was.

He couldn’t help it though. Lance loved his fans, more than anything except his friends, his family, and commercials involving baby animals. To think that he’d treated someone who supported him so awfully still had Lance cringing internally. And sometimes externally. Which was so not a good look for him. 

Being a male lingerie model, one in a sexual and racial minority at that, meant that Lance would never have gotten the opportunities he had unless he’d had all that public support. And here he was, shooting off at someone just because they were hot and hot people made him flustered and yeah he knew he was like a sex symbol or whatever but talking to people was _nothing_ like looking at a camera. 

He’d even sheepishly asked Allura to look into it, and being the agent from heaven that she was, she’d agreed. Lance had no idea how she would even begin to look for someone Lance had described as average height with eyes he wanted to fall into and swim around in while- yeah no, he really ought to put the whole thing out of his head, there was no way Allura was going to be able to find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last sentence was such subtle foreshadowing, even I didn't catch it. And I'm the author. That's skilz right there.


	4. Boxer Briefs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith gets to do his first photoshoot, and Lance is enamored with a hot new model showing up on billboards all over the city.

So it turned out Keith did not need to do any personal grooming before he arrived, he was being being driven to the shoot, and Ulaz was staying with him the whole day.

Keith was more than a little glad of that, because the shoot was slightly overwhelming. Not that he’d ever willingly admit so.

Ulaz had told him a bit about it on the way over. He was shooting a line of jeans and a cologne for some brand called Taujeer. They were going to release the products in the next upcoming weeks as the the new main focus of their male clothing line. Keith had been thankful for the background knowledge, but didn’t really know what to do with it.

As soon as they arrived, Keith was whisked away to hair and makeup, where a crew of artists tutted over the few sparse hairs leading down from his navel, some saying there weren’t enough of them and some saying there were too many, but all agreeing the current situation wasn’t good enough. In the end, they shaved them, stripping Keith down and shaving or trimming anything they thought might get in the way. 

Keith would’ve felt very uncomfortable at being treated like a barbie doll, but after knowing the world of competitive dance he found the experience less off-putting than he would have otherwise. 

After the body hair was taken care, they started on his face, tutting over his eyebrows and cooing at his skin and when they were done Keith was mildly astonished that he looked the same just… better. 

With hair and makeup done, he was whisked away by a different crew to where the photos would be. There was a rack of jeans off to the side, and after he was shoved into some Taujeer brand underwear, a harried looking wardrobe assistant pushed a pair of pants at him. 

The first pair was too small, fitting Keith fine until he tried to get it up over his ass, but the next pair were like a second skin, hugging his frame and riding low on his waist. It wasn’t Keith’s preferred fit for a pant, but he figured that was what they were supposed to do. 

The photographer saw him off to the side and screeched that they weren’t ready for photos yet, to which one of the makeup artists replied with relief and proceeded to brush tan makeup all over Keith’s abs. They came back in with a much lighter shade of makeup, and then swept lightly with a feathery brush that had him fighting back giggles. They went over certain spots with some sparkly shit, and when they stepped away Keith was shocked to look down and see that he had washboard abs like he did nothing but crunches twenty four hours a day. 

“Movie magic, huh,” thought Keith, taking in the changes in his body before the photographer’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“All right, I’m ready for the model now!”

Keith stepped out onto the backdrop, a slew of dark greys and charcoals with nothing but a stool out in the very middle. Keith walked over to the stool, but before he could sit down the photographer whisked it away. 

“Uh-uh, I think I wanna do the standing shots first. You okay with that?” He yelled the last part backwards towards the darkness of the studio and someone beyond the glow of the lights shouted back an affirmative. 

“These first few shots are just gonna be me getting my camera ready, so go ahead and practice making all the faces you want. I’ll tell you which ones I like. We’re really looking for heaps of male sexuality. Think Calvin Klein but way more affordable.”

Keith nearly let out a laugh at that, the photographer’s bluntness about the brand being very refreshing, but tried to school his features into the best heated gaze he could manage, thinking of everything he’d learned over the course of the past week, and, more importantly, of the face he’d like to make at Lance when he exposed him for what he really was, and when Lance realized that Keith wasn’t some creepy fanboy with a mullet, but a hot model just like him.

He was so busy following the flash of the camera and concentrating on the tips the photographer was giving that it felt like no time at all had passed before the cameraman stopped and said, “Are you sure you’re new at this?”

Keith tilted his head, “Yeah, why?”

The other man shrugged, “You’re just not looking shy. Most models take a lot of coaxing to look as relaxed as you do right now.”

“I’m a dancer,” Keith replied, as if that explained everything.

“Uh-huh,” The photographer said, turning back to his camera. “I’m gonna need you to hook a thumb in your waistband.”

And just like that, they started taking the photographs, Keith being told to look down, look up, look to the side, put a hand in his hair, a thumb through his belt loops, and a million other things that were supposed to make the jeans as sexy and appealing as possible. 

Keith let his mind wander during the photos, thinking of the pole dancing routines he put together for the entertainers that came through his studio, telling them to put their hips out, expose the column of their neck, stare their audience down like they knew how badly those watching wanted them. 

He thought about the easy, untouchable confidence his hip hop dancers brought to the dance floor, and the way their bodies spoke of their reputation without them having to say a word. He thought of all the performances he’d ever done, and re-lived them all, intimately, with just himself and the camera, imagining the big blue eyes of Lance McClain widening in shock with every camera flash.

In the end, they got the standing and sitting pictures before they had to break for lunch, and then Keith was put in an imposing black leather chair for the cologne photos, balancing it on the arm of the chair, holding it casually in one hand, and some other things that the photographer seemed really adamant about capturing from every possible angle.

By the time they were finished, Keith was hot, tired, sore, and feeling less than sexy. He was now extremely grateful that Ulaz had driven him, and happily accepted the offer of a ride back home. When Keith stumbled into his apartment that night, thoughts of revenge were far from his mind. What he was most occupied with was the feeling of satisfaction, and accomplishment, radiating through his tired body.

The next week was slow for Keith. Ulaz had been satisfied with the shots, but no further work that would suit his newest model had come his way. That was fine by Keith, he had salsa lessons and hip hop throughout the day and into the evenings. He spent all day Thursday working with one of the hip hop teams in the studio to help them tighten up their moves for a dance off that Saturday, and the following Monday it started all over again. 

He was actually surprised when, on his way to work a couple weeks after the shoot, he saw billboards already up for Taujeer. He guessed Ulaz really hadn’t been kidding when they were going to launch soon. It was weird, seeing his face photoshopped to be more angular than it already was, and the angles of his torso even more defined, but Keith didn’t think he looked bad. He took a photo to send to Shiro, wanting to let his big brother know he was already getting somewhere.

~~~

Lance was on his way to work, coming into the offices to sit with Allura and wade through job offers, when he saw the first one. 

Alpha-male macho-man douchebags were the stock in trade of the male model industry, so the fact that the guy on the billboard was ripped to hell and back (with the help of some Photoshop Lance thought skeptically) wasn’t surprising, or even impressive to Lance.

What got him was the expression. Expressions couldn’t be photoshopped, the delicate balance between eyebrows and mouths and jaws too complicated to be recreated digitally.

Which meant those bedroom eyes were all real. Lance found even himself, an industry veteran, going weak at the knees because of the dark, come-hither gaze, and the seduction radiating off the mystery model’s body language was drawing Lance in irresistibly.

He had a type. And this guy, whoever the fuck he was, checked off every box on Lance’s list. He was so taken with the photo that at first he didn’t even realize what product the billboard was for. Seeing that it was Taujeer, a brand he knew wasn’t highbrow enough to use established models, Lance bemoaned the slim chance of ever meeting the hottie. For such a thing to happen, his mystery man would have to be represented by some powerhouse modelling agency that could quickly get him to climb the ranks, like Galra Modelling Inc., or Lance’s own Altea Corp.

_“Oh well,”_ Lance thought, _“At least I get to see his face the entire way to work for the next few weeks. I’ll have spank bank material to last me a good long while.”_

He hummed as he entered Altea Corps.’ building, wondering if there were print versions of that ad in magazines somewhere available for sale. He wasn’t some horny teen hiding porn mags under his bed, but for a face that pretty he could make an exception.

But as it turned out, Lance didn’t just see the mystery model on billboards. When he entered Allura’s office, he saw headshots of the same model sitting on her desk. Lance shrieked and lunged for it, grabbing at the profile attached to his photo. He couldn’t help but grin as he learned that the boy’s name was Keith Kogane, he worked for Galra Modelling, and he’d come across Allura’s desk as part of a job offer for an upcoming lingerie line by Queen Luxia, an exclusive, high-end brand Lance often worked for.

Allura showed the offer to Lance in order to express her amazement at the fact that Luxia, the head of the line, would want someone with so little experience modelling her clothes. She was even more amazed when Lance jumped out of his chair and shook the headshot at her, exclaiming, “I’ll do it!”

“Lance,” She chided, “Such juvenile displays are a bit beneath someone of your status, don’t you think?”

“Allura,” Lance said, face utterly serious, “For a face this good, I would put on displays a lot more juvenile than this. Displays a lot more anything, honestly, because that boy is a ten if I ever saw one.” 

He gave her an eyebrow wiggle that had Allura sighing, exasperated.

“So, I take it you’d like to accept the job then?” 

“Yes, please, give Luxia my most enthusiastic of yeses,” He leaned back in his chair, looking at the head shot of Galra Modelling’s latest acquisition, “But only if this cute Galra boy is doing it.”

Allura squinted at Lance, “I’ve never seen you like this about someone before. What happened to corner store boy?”

Lance shrugged, “Corner store boy is old news in the face of this Hottie McHotterson. Besides, it’s been like what, a month, and you’ve gotten absolutely nothing? I mean, I feel really bad about it, but I’m never going to get the chance to apologize. Best to just forget and move on, right? And what better distraction than this guy? Seriously Allura. He made Taujeer look more appealing than Hugo Boss. Boy’s got energy like I’ve never encountered, and I want to experience it up close and personal.”

“I do _not_ need your sexual undertones in any conversation we have together,” Allura said tightly.

“Sure thing, Princess,” Lance said, using the nickname he’d given her after learning she was the daughter of the C.E.O.

Allura rolled her eyes, putting her phone to her ear and contacting Luxia’s people, “Yes, Hello? This is Allura of Altea Corp. and we’d like to accept the offer you extended to our model Lance McClain.”

~~~~

Keith was abso-fucking-lutely amazed that things were going so smoothly. When he’d woken up after his all-nighter revenge planning session, he’d known at the very back of his mind that the whole plan was a bit… farfetched. But Keith Kogane never stopped and never backed down, and once he got an idea in his head he stuck with it until the end. It was one of the things Shiro loved and hated most about his brother.

So Keith had followed through with his plan, despite knowing how crazy it was, but he’d never expected it to go this far this fast. He’d been prepared to wait a full year before things had gotten this far, but it had barely been a month since he’d signed on with the Galra, and he was already getting a photoshoot with Lance. 

He couldn’t wait to walk in and see the look on the other model’s face when he recognized Keith. Lance would see him and remember him and how rude he’d been, and then he’d beg Keith to keep his secret, and Keith would refuse. Keith would tell Lance that he didn’t care how much he begged and pleaded, or how pretty he looked with his big baby blues all full of tears, with that lower lip pouty and quivering, on his knees blubbering before Keith, willing to do anything, _absolutely anything_ … 

Keith grimaced. He had a boner again. But it was a rage boner. Definitely a rage boner. Because thinking about Lance fucking McClain made him angry. Not horny. Definitely not horny. And he wanted Lance on his knees before Keith as revenge. Definitely just revenge. Yep.

He hoped this didn’t happen again at the photoshoot. Apparently it was going to be a his and his masculine and feminine lingerie line by Queen Luxia, some fancy ass brand that Ulaz told Keith he should be thrilled at getting an offer from. But if he showed up in front of Lance and popped a stiffy, Lance might mistake his desire for vengeance for desire of another kind. That _definitely_ didn’t need to happen, because then Keith would just be proving Lance right, that he did want to use him in his dirty little fantasies.

Keith shoved himself up off his couch, changing into loose work out clothes, and headed for the studio. He was going to dance for a little bit, he had too many thoughts swirling around in his head and just wanted to stop thinking for a little while.

~~~

Lance would give anything to stop thinking for a while. Seriously, he’d even give up that limited edition bra and panty set he’d gotten to model on Project Runway. He didn’t think he’d ever been this nervous about a photoshoot before. Was Keith nice? Or was he just hot? Lance’s mama had a saying that God didn’t give with both hands, but Lance sure hoped he had with this one, because Lance would be heartbroken if that modern Adonis was as dumb as he was hot. Because then he would be _really, really_ dumb. 

But would Keith even like Lance? What if he hated him? What if Keith backed out of the photoshoot? What if Lance said something dumb? What if, what if, what if. The questions kept swirling around in his head.

The only good thing about Lance’s new source of pining was that it meant he’d left the old one behind. Lance hadn’t thought about corner store boy since he’d seen the billboards, and he was pretty sure that was a good thing because Lance couldn’t handle two burgeoning crushes at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter they get to meet again! I hope you're as excited as I am.


	5. T-Back Thong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith have their first photo shoot together...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just the Prisoner/Angel arc from Skip Beat! but gayer and with less clothes. ur welcome. My sis read this chap and she just said "oh my god, Lance is in so deep" ಸヮಸ

The photo shoot was set to be an all day affair, Allura arriving with a sleepy Lance in tow, sweeping gracefully onto the set like she was the one being photographed today. In contrast, Lance had barely put moisturizer on before he left the house, a far cry from his normal three-part all-day relaxing, repairing, rejuvenating skin plan. 

He greeted the hair and makeup artists, and spent several minutes cooing with wardrobe over all of the beautiful things Luxia had him wearing today. Male lingerie was different than that aimed at women, and Lance had worn some pretty embarrassing or ill-fitting pieces in his lifetime, but Luxia had made it her life’s work to deliver masc and femme fantasies for all gender identities, and Lance knew everything he wore today would look killer.

He just hoped his co-star looked just as good. Speaking of, where was Keith anyway? 

“Hey Allura!” He yelled tipping his head back to catch sight of her talking into her headset, “Where’s our other model?”

“I just got off the phone with Ulaz, they’ll be here shortly.” She replied, paying more attention to whoever was talking in her ear.

Lance felt a thrill of excitement race through him. He was nearly giddy, a strange emotion for him to feel at a shoot after having done them for so long.

Deciding the best way to avoid his feelings was to eat them into oblivion, he headed over to the complimentary breakfast bar to get a bran muffin and a low fat yogurt. (He may have wanted to eat his feelings, but with Allura around and his schedule packed for the next six weeks, those feelings would be lean and low carb.)

However no sooner had he started scoping out the muffins for the one that was most aesthetically pleasing than the doors opened and Keith entered. Lance looked up, muffin halfway to his mouth, already cursing internally because of course he wasn’t doing something cool or attractive, he was fucking eating, because he was a fatty and shit at dealing with his feelings and- WHOA Keith was even hotter in person.

He was wearing black skinny jeans and a red motorcycle jacket, walking a step or two behind some tall, slick guy Lance just knew was a shoo-in for the kind of employees the Galra loved to hire. Lance remembered Allura saying his name was Ulaz. The agent was saying something to Keith, who was nodding along with a disinterested expression when he caught sight of Lance.

Lance had been expecting something like a smile, or a nod, or some kind of recognition, but Keith glared at him. Downright glared, like Lance had stolen his lunch money or something. Which was ridiculous, because Lance never needed to pay for his own lunches.

Figuring that maybe Keith was just grumpy in the morning or something, Lance did his best to shrug it off, and headed over to where Ulaz was greeting Allura and the photographer, Kolivan. 

Ulaz was saying some industry bullshit about how pleased he was for Keith to have been given this opportunity, and how excited he was for the shoot today, but all Lance was paying attention to was Keith.

He was softer, in real life, than his photos had made him seem. His cheekbones weren’t quite as sharp and his face wasn’t quite as angular, but somehow, Lance liked that more. As soon as Keith caught sight of him staring, though, he leveled the same glare at Lance and there was no mistaking the venom in it this time. 

Lance was beginning to be worried. Keith knew they had to take photos together all day, right? He couldn’t look this pissy for the camera. 

A lull in the conversation made Lance abruptly realize everyone was looking at him, waiting for him to say something. 

“Sorry,” He grinned, “Wasn’t listening, you guys mind repeating that?”

“I said,” Allura hissed pleasantly, which was something only she could do, “That we were both excited to be working with Keith today, isn’t that right Lance?”

“Oh yeah!” Lance exclaimed brightly, “It’s been a long time since I saw a jeans ad so fine it made me wanna take them right off the person wearing them.” He waggled his eyebrows at Keith and gave him his best smoulder. “When I heard you were the total hottie Luxia had gotten for this shoot, I knew I wanted in. Into those Taujeers, that is.”

And instead of Keith responding to Lance’s unique brand of over the top flirting that usually got the model what he wanted, Keith glared at Lance even harder and said, “Excuse me? Don’t you know who I am?”

Lance was confused, “Sure, you’re Keith Kogane, the new Galra model who’s going to be spending the day naked and on top of me.”

Keith’s face exploded in a blush at the same time as his temper did. “You- you really don’t remember- but I- and you- we’re not spending the day naked, we’re both wearing underwear! And stop flirting with me, you _clearly_ have no idea who I am!”

Lance’s eyes narrowed as his own temper flared. “And should I?” He said lowly.

“Should you what?” Keith asked, acid in every syllable.

“Know who you, some upstart, mullet-haired model, are.”

Keith crossed his arms over his chest, “Seeing as you knew my name when I came in and specifically agreed to do this photo shoot with me because I’m, in your own words, a total hottie, I’d say yes.”

Lance took a step closer to Keith, “And I’d say that I was wrong, because you’re not a hottie, you’re a jerkwad, a grade A asswipe, and clearly have some kinda problem with me!”

He felt so disappointed. Of course the cute model boy wasn’t going to like him. Lance could see that Keith hadn’t liked him since the moment he stepped in the studio. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve Keith’s enmity, but he suddenly felt like burning every single copy of the magazines he’d bought with Keith’s ad in them.

Keith, for his part, was stunned. It had never crossed his mind that Lance might not recognize him, which, he realized now, was something he definitely should have planned for. Of course Lance wasn’t going to recognize him. What was one late night encounter to a model who had to deal with hagglers on a daily basis? Keith wasn’t going to be able to make Lance remember him, that much was clear. He was reeling, he had no idea what to do. His imaginings of how this shoot would go usually went a bit hazy after Lance begged for his forgiveness.

To his horror, Keith realized he was actually going to have to go through with this photoshoot with Lance. He was just going to have to utterly crush the other model with his work before telling the world about what Lance was really like- he reminded himself to now add ‘audacious flirt with terrible work ethic’ to the growing list of Lance’s faults.

Allura stepped between the two of them before either could say any more. “Boys, you’re both pretty. Stop fighting and get naked. Kolivan wants to start taking shots in an hour, I’m going to say the two of you have thirty minutes.”

“Fine!” said Lance, at the exact same time as Keith, prompting another stare down between the two that was only broken up when Allura grabbed Lance by the arm and pulled him away for his makeup.

While Keith was getting dolled-up, Ulaz asked him quietly, “What happened back there? I had no idea you felt so negatively about Lance McClain.”

“Yeah, well,” Keith said, shifting uncomfortably, but stilling when one of the make up artists tutted at him, “I really don’t like his personality, and this morning he really rubbed me the wrong way.”

“Well,” Ulaz said, “If your personal feelings continue to interrupt your professional work, I will not hesitate to screen your jobs or simply terminate you entirely. Do not forget, this is still a trial period, we have absolutely no obligations to keep you on.” 

Keith nodded grimly, “I won’t let it happen again.”

“See that you don’t.” Ulaz replied.

Meanwhile, Lance was getting eaten alive by an irate Allura.

“I can’t believe you nearly came to blows with him, Lance! First thing in the morning! I thought you wanted to kiss him, not fight him!”

“I did!” Lance exclaimed, “But then he was all pissy with me, and I don’t know who spit in his biscuit, or whatever it is Texan mullet-heads eat for breakfast, but I’m not gonna take that kind of attitude lying down.”

Allura looked like she was debating which would be more effort, moderating this photo shoot or dragging Lance home and locking him in his apartment.

“Can you put up with him for long enough to do this job?” Allura asked.

Lance snorted, “Allura, I’m a professional. You know I wouldn’t let some guy who rubs me the wrong way get under my skin enough to affect my work!”

But forty five minutes later, Kolivan was standing in front of a glowing white backdrop looking slightly lost. 

“I’m gonna need you two to act like you at least like each other,” he said.

Lance glared at Keith, weight cocked on one hip, “I’m standing in the center, Keith can come towards me.”

Keith glared right back, arms crossed over his chest again, “And I’m standing where Kolivan actually told us to stand, so you can move towards me.”

“Guys, come on,” Kolivan said, exasperation bleeding through, “this is still the first set of clothing, we can’t do this all day.”

Keith and Lance were under the bright lights of the shoot, dressed in their first outfits for the day. Lance was in a sheer, plum babydoll, with a matching set of silk boyshorts. Keith wore a tight pair of boxer briefs in the same color, with the floral pattern of Lance’s silk reflected in the band of his boxers. 

They were supposed to be embodying innocent young love, reflecting the tastefulness of the sex appeal in the garments. The emotions they were currently displaying, however, couldn’t have been any further from that. 

But at Kolivan’s urging, they moved a little closer to each other, allowing him to finally start taking some test shots. Not wanting to press his luck, Kolivan guided each one through a few poses by themselves, hoping they’d eventually get into the right mindset.

Lance stood awkwardly aloof under the lights while he watched Keith work. The other model took Kolivan’s directions well, and seemed to know just what faces to make, looking bashful and hopeful and tender and several other things that were nothing like the face Lance had seen on that billboard, but that did funny things to his insides all the same. 

Keith, when it was Lance’s turn to pose for the camera, found himself thinking just how excited this would have made him six weeks ago, before he’d known Lance’s true self, and had still been so foolishly enamored with him. He imagined how he would have reacted to seeing Lance McClain, right in front of him, leaning forward to flash just a hint of nipple to the camera with a sweet smile on his face, and turning around to smile and laugh over his shoulder while sticking out his perky little butt.

Keith would’ve thought he’d died and gone to heaven, but all he could think about right now was how this felt like hell. Keith found himself thinking that maybe that’s how he could get through this photoshoot. He’d think of Lance as he’d thought of him before all this had happened, back when he was just a nice celebrity with the best body Keith had ever seen, and not some stuck up flirt.

When Kolivan pulled back from taking Lance’s shots, he saw a new resolve on Keith’s face that let him know the model was ready to get to work. He smiled at the two of them and said, “Ready to try some together now?”

Lance huffed, turning his nose up in the air and saying, “I’m ready if Keith is!”

But instead of a sarcastic reply, Keith gave a steady, “Yeah, I’m ready, Kolivan,” that had Lance whipping his head around in shock. Suddenly Keith didn’t have a problem? Seriously, what was _with_ this guy?

Grumbling in his head, Lance stepped up beside Keith before the two looked to the photographer, awaiting his instructions.

“All right, I wanna just start with some casual shots, Keith with an arm around Lance’s waist, Lance’s hand on Keith’s arm, yep, there we go,” and just like that the two models began getting into position. 

The first shots Kolivan got of them like that were pretty stiff, but the photographer was good at what he did, and he guided Keith and Lance further and further into physical intimacy, making quips and witty remarks that had the two of them laughing and smiling. Keith and Lance began to make jokes back at Kolivan, and at each other, with no real heat behind them, just a subtle rivalry that Kolivan didn’t mind capturing with his camera.

He guided Keith to stand behind Lance, to look out at the camera with heated eyes and run his hands up under the sheer satin, and to rest his hands possessively on Lance’s waist, the skin warmer than Keith thought it would be. Lance looked out at the camera, laughing at something Kolivan said, running his hands up to tangle in Keith’s hair.

Keith told him that he’d better not tug too hard, his lips brushing against the skin of Lance’s neck as he never moved from his position. Lance retorted that losing a few hairs would do Keith no harm, as any other hairstyle would look better than Keith’s mullet. Keith retorted that he didn’t have a mullet, pulling away as Kolivan said he wanted one that was light-hearted, with them both laughing.

As they pulled away, Keith’s hands stopped to rest at Lance’s hips, right at the top of his boyshorts. Lance grumbled about Keith’s hand slipping too low, and Keith snorted back that seriously, that was the last place he wanted his hand to be, and when Kolivan brought in a couch and made Lance sit in Keith’s lap, Lance warned Keith he’d better not get a boner. 

Allura was nearly holding her head in her hands at the unprofessionalism Lance was showing, but Kolivan thought their prickly intimacy was kind of cute. It hadn’t been the look the brand was going for, but it worked well. They looked like the sort of young couples who acted like they’d been married for years already, good-natured bickering filling their every conversation. 

Of course, Kolivan knew Keith and Lance’s bickering was not a fond exchange of affection, but was rather the antagonism it sounded like, but they were at least moving and posing for him now, and he’d take what he could get. However, he still needed more.

Calling for a break, Kolivan moved off to the side to talk with some of his assistants. 

Lance personally thought it couldn’t have come at a better time. His mind had realized Keith was a jerk, but his dick had not seemed to get the memo, and wiggling around on that couch against Keith’s very well endowed dick (probably, Lance had a sixth sense about these things) had nearly been the straw to break the camel’s back. Lance had to focus on how much of a tight-ass Keith was to keep himself from having any embarrassing bodily reactions, but anywhere on Keith’s body he looked, the boy was just so pretty it felt impossible.

Keith was just as glad. It was one thing to see Lance on TV and on the internet, another to see him in person, and an entirely different, new, much better and simultaneously worse thing getting to hold him in his hands. Keith didn’t know how this was possible, but somehow Lance’s skin was baby soft. Literally, every inch of Lance felt like a baby, and that should have been really weird, but instead Keith just found it mildly arousing. And when Lance had been moving around on top of him for the couch photos, and Keith had been running hands through his hair, and breathing in at his neck getting lungfuls of a scent that was all Lance- well. He just thought the break couldn’t have come at a better time.

Wardrobe took advantage of the time to switch out the model’s clothes, putting them both in coordinated dove grey pieces in slippery silk. Lance had a t-back thong and a three-quarters sleeve kimono wrap with a deep hood that the hair and makeup people kept pulling on and then off, and Keith got dove grey boxers with a knee length, hoodless kimono, a little less voluminous.

Lance’s wrap billowed and swirled around him with every move he made, while Keith’s clung to his frame and slunk behind him. Lance was gushing about the genius of the subtle differences in the crafting that expressed the gender difference in the garments, while Keith just thought he really liked how soft it was. Kolivan called to the two of them, and when they were standing beside him he pulled up the photos he’d already taken on his computer so they could see.

The photos were cute, none of Lance’s and Keith’s enmity bleeding through, but there was a prickliness present in every photo that made it look like Keith was seconds away from giving Lance a noogie, or Lance punching Keith in the shoulder. The only photo that showed sexiness was the first one where Keith was staring possessively at the camera. Lance really liked that photo, he thought Keith looked _insanely_ hot in that one. Not that he would ever admit that to Keith’s face.

Kolivan explained that while the shots were good, none of them communicated the tenderness or care-free joy the brand was hoping to promote in their line. He really wanted them to step it up for the next shots.

“I don’t care what you have to do,” He told Keith and Lance, “Just put on your best acting faces and make like he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

The two models nodded grimly, their mutual dislike for each other forgotten now that they were thinking of their work. When they came back out on set, the couch was still there, and Kolivan told them he wanted to try Lance on top of Keith again, sprawled out and lazy, indolent so that the spread of the silk was shown off to its highest degree.

Keith obediently laid down on the couch, his back against one arm and his legs spread so Lance had a spot between his legs, waiting patiently while the assistants spread his robe and played with his hair. 

Lance slithered on top of him, jamming an elbow in Keith’s ribs as he wiggled his hips against Keith’s groin to get comfortable. Keith was almost grateful for the pain, even if he wanted to say that Lance had done it on purpose, because it meant he wasn’t focusing on the friction at his crotch. 

Soon enough, Lance had to go through the same primping as Keith. The assistants moved the robe off of Lance’s shoulder so it look like it had casually slipped off, yards of silk sloughing off, covering his hand that hung lazily off the couch, cascading to almost touch the floor.

His robe wasn’t as long as Keith’s, though it was more billowy, and after some hushed instructions from Kolivan the assistants moved the bottom of Lance’s robe up just enough so that the swell of his ass was exposed and they could clearly see that he was wearing a thong. Or maybe nothing at all, since the t-back was completely hidden between his cheeks.

Keith could feel his own cheeks heating up, and he hoped Lance couldn’t hear his increased heart rate from where he had his head on Keith’s chest, looking out at the camera as Kolivan gave instructions to the lighting people. Not for the first time, Keith found himself wondering how he was supposed to be looking at Lance with tenderness and affection, when all he really felt was distaste and that pesky attraction. 

But he found his mind drifting back to what he’d thought earlier, and how he would’ve given anything to be in this spot six weeks ago. Keith decided that was really going to be how he got through this photo shoot. He thought of all the interviews he’d watched, where Lance was caring, humble and articulate, not the self-absorbed flirt Keith was encountering now.

When Kolivan called for the shooting to begin, Keith tangled a hand in Lance’s hair, looking down at him with all the affection he would have given to the Lance he thought he knew, a small smile teasing unbidden at the corners of his mouth, his eyes crinkling in kindness.

Lance, for his part, felt lulled by the heartbeat in his ear, and between the heat of the halogen lights and the warmth of Keith’s chest, he felt nearly sleepy. He was trying his best to think of Keith not as the snarky upstart with an attitude, but rather just focus on the physical comfort he was providing.

Lance’s face, while Kolivan was shooting, was almost vulnerable in its slack-jawed state. He gave a hazy smile to the camera, like he was drunk on the affection Keith was giving him.

Kolivan was amazed. He didn’t know what had gone through the models’ heads in the time it had taken them to set up this shoot, but any doubts he’d had about their professionalism were steadily melting away. 

He took shots of Keith looking at Lance while Lance looked at the camera. He took photos of them looking at each other; of Lance looking up at Keith while Keith looked out at the camera, a hand possessively gripping Lance’s ass. 

Then he had them change it up, told them to look in each other’s eyes and laugh. The first attempt at the shot was a little forced, but then someone off-set shouted, “You two should kiss!” and the whole set exploded in laughter, Keith and Lance included.

Kolivan was quick to capture the moment, Keith’s teeth flashing, Lance’s head thrown back. As the laughter died down, Lance teased, “You know, you’re probably the last person on this set I want to kiss.”

“You sure?” Keith asked, “My manager has got to be at least seven feet tall, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen the dude blink.” 

Lance giggled, one of his hands coming to curl in a loose fist on Keith’s chest.

Kolivan was snapping away like crazy. Finally, the two of them were showing him the unguarded moments he needed.

After that, he had them stand up; he had Keith pull Lance to him by the tie on the model’s robe, Lance laughing as he quipped about being roped in by a mullet-haired cowboy. 

He took some shots of them falling into each other, the models giggling as they gave more and more ridiculous names to their falls.

“I call this one falling swan,” Lance said, tilting into Keith’s arm while the cameras clicked away.

“It looked more like a flailing swan,” Keith teased.

To finish up the shots of this outfit, Kolivan wanted to take some with Lance’s hood up. He wanted these to be the hot and steamy shots, mirroring those first ones he’d taken of the purple lingerie.

He directed Keith to stand with his legs apart, chin up and glaring at the camera much like he’d done for the jeans ad, but this time only one hand was in the band of his boxers, pushing his robe back. The other hand was cradling the back of Lance’s head, who was kneeling up on his knees with them spread apart, hood up and making him look mysterious as he stared adoringly at Keith.

An assistant hurried on set to pull Keith’s robe out behind him so it swirled around Lance, making him look cradled beneath Keith’s robe. As the shutter clicked away, Kolivan knew he was going to get some really good shots out of this. 

Finally, the crowd broke for lunch. Lance ate with the hair and makeup people, and Keith talked with Kolivan and Allura, Ulaz having disappeared somewhere. 

Their next shots were a strappy bodysuit for Lance, in emerald fabric with a dull sheen that oozed wealth and indulgence. Keith had boxers for that one, and a robe that was a lighter, slinkier version of a classic gentleman’s smoking jacket.

At the end of the shoot, Keith actually felt a lot better about the whole situation than he thought he would. He’d filled his head with the Lance he’d admired, and was feeling much more congenial towards the other model. Lance had been funny and charming for a lot of the shoot today, and Keith was wondering if maybe Lance in real life wasn’t so different from the person Keith had been enamored with after all.

However, everything changed when Kolivan yelled, “That’s a wrap!”

Lance grinned at Keith from where he stood beside him, and said, “You did pretty good today, for a rookie.” He gave a cheeky wink, “You’re still nowhere near my level though.” 

And just like that, Keith was just as burning with irritation as he had been at the start of this morning- nowhere near Lance’s level? They’d been neck and neck the entire day, and here he was telling Keith that he was good by rookie standards? He’d been treated just like Lance all day, any criticism had been given to both of them, and Keith knew Lance was just as aware of the fact as he was. 

Lance outright laughed as he saw Keith’s face stitch up in anger, steam practically coming out of his ears. That would show him. Lance hadn’t forgotten Keith’s cocky attitude from this morning, and while he’d warmed up to the model and couldn’t deny his talent- or how insanely hot he was- it felt good to give him reminder of his place.

However, apparently this was not good timing for Lance’s jibe, because suddenly Keith’s problem he had with Lance was back in full force. He huffed his way off-set and stomped over to his hair and makeup, getting back into his own clothes and leaving the set as soon as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEE! I loved writing this chapter, it's one of my favorites. Did anyone catch the Brandon Rogers reference?
> 
> Also, some housekeeping! My sister's tumblr officially has illustrations for this fic! You can find them at 6licoricesticks.tumblr.com I'll be going back and linking each illustration to the chapter it goes to, but for right now, she's got rough sketches of Lance's fantasy bra, Keith angrily eating noodles and plotting, and a scene that hasn't happened yet regarding Keith and Shiro's history. So if you want to see fetus illustrations go stalk her. Or you can wait for me to link the nice versions. Whatever suits you.  
> Also! This IS my first fic, so I'm trying stuff out and learning the ropes, and I think I'm changing the day I update to Wednesdays. The good news for you all is that I'm changing this Wednesday, so your next update is earlier than planned, but if you don't want that to happen and you want me to stick to Saturdays lemme know in the comments!


	6. Super Sexy Salsa Fantasy Panty & Garter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance has to take dancing lessons... unfortunately he doesn't get along very well with the class instructor.

“So how’d the shoot go?” Hunk asked.

Lance hummed into his salmon steak, staring longingly at Pidge’s strawberry milkshake. The three were at an upscale diner near Altea, getting lunch together a few days after Lance’s photo shoot with Keith.

“Well,” Lance said, “I was right when I said he wasn’t going to like me. I was also right when I said he was probably hotter in real life.”

Pidge threw her head back and laughed, “That means you were right when you said he was too good to be true!”

Lance glared at her, “Not helping, Pidge.”

She threw a baked sweet potato fry at him. “Not here to help. That’s what Hunk is for. I’m here to watch the chaos unfold.”

“Stop being dramatic, Pidge, you’re here because you’re the only genderqueer model who’s not butch and you can’t stand having to be around your coworkers while they talk social justice.”

She shrugged. “I’ve said from day one I’m more invested in aliens than politics, but they really don’t seem to care. A few even try to tell other people to use ‘they’ pronouns for me, like- when I say I don’t care what pronouns people use for me, I mean I don’t care. People can call me she, they can call me a girl, they can call me he, they can sound mildly unsure but still call me a guy, they can refer to my true form and call me The Thing From Outer Space, I really. Don’t. Care.” She grimaced, “Them trying to push me into their form of genderqueer is almost more annoying than the corporate goonies trying to shove me into dresses- and that’s really fucked up, man.”

Lance and Hunk nodded, Lance somewhat familiar with the feeling, as he wasn’t as femme as a lot of the other femme male models, and Hunk’s status as a plus size model of color meant he knew her struggle as well. 

She grinned and said, “But I don’t mind hanging around you two instead of them, because none of them have love lives as fucked up as yours, Lance.”

“It’s not fucked up,” he retorted. “I just happened to strike out twice in a row. It happens sometimes, even to someone as handsome as myself.”

Hunk snorted, “But I bet you did something that probably didn’t help the situation.”

Lance took a bite of his salmon steak and sighed. It was good, but nowhere near greasy-diner-food good. “Keith had a problem with me from the moment he walked in the studio. I don’t know if there was anything I could’ve done that would’ve made him like me more.”

Pidge snorted into her milkshake, “So is this the end of another epic adventure in Lance McClain’s Lifelong Journey to Get Laid?”

Lance sighed and leaned back into the booth. “Yeah, I guess so. It couldn’t have gone anywhere anyway, though. He’s Galra, and we all know I’m not allowed to date Galra models.”

“No, not after how your last relationship worked out,” Hunk said with a shiver. “Not after that.”

There was a moment of silence at the table, the atmosphere thick, until Lance looked up and said brightly, “Did I tell you Allura wants me to take salsa lessons?”

~~~~

Keith was really glad the trial period was as long as it was. He hadn’t had anything else to compare his first photo shoot with the Galra to, but after experiencing the laidback atmosphere that had surrounded Altea’s photo shoot, he found himself wondering if Galra Modelling was really where he wanted to stay for the duration of his modelling career.

Ulaz had told him about a couple of jobs since his shoot with Lance, one of which had happened yesterday. Keith was finding the brusque atmosphere of his agent to be less than welcoming, and many of the Galra employees had no qualms about providing Keith with criticism, which he didn’t think he’d have a problem with if they also provided as much praise as Altea’s employees had.

Keith was debating giving the other modelling agencies’ business cards he’d gotten so long ago a call, walking through the depths of the Galra building toward the fresh air and sunshine waiting outside, when an unfamiliar face stopped him in the hallway.

“Why, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before- you new?” A tall, lithe man with near perfect bone structure and stunningly white long hair asked.

“‘Yeah, been here a few weeks. I’m Keith. And who are you supposed to be?”

“The name’s Lotor,” the man said, “And I’m Galra’s top model, something that you’d know if you were any kind of model worth your salt.” He cocked his head, looking at Keith pityingly, “Gosh, you’re just a pathetic piece of trash, aren’t you? Who’s your agent?”

“Excuse you?” Keith said angrily, “Where do you get off calling someone who works with you a piece of trash?”

“Uh, I’m the son of the head honcho and heir apparent of this whole enterprise. I could get off calling you Fuckface McGee and no one would say anything.” Lotor smiled, slick as an oil spill, “Now, who’s your agent?”

Keith narrowed his eyes, hardly able to believe this acerbic man was several positions higher than him on the company ladder.

Before he could respond, Lotor held up a hand, “You know what, I don’t really care. Doesn’t matter who your boss is, you’re either making us money or you aren’t. If you don’t know who I am you clearly aren’t in this industry for the long haul, so I don’t give two shits about you.”

He looked Keith up and down. “I do give two shits about your body though. I can’t have a Galra model looking like this. You need to lose ten pounds of flab and gain it back as muscle. And Jesus, how short are you, 5’7’’? I almost want you fired on that alone, but you look Asian enough I bet you help fill out that god-forsaken diversity quota.”

He flashed a grin at Keith, all teeth and no kindness. “Tell your agent to contact me as soon as possible. If I don’t hear from them I’ll just send out a company wide email telling them to fire any model we’ve hired in the past two months. We’re a big enough name, you see, new people are always waiting outside our doors, desperate to just crawl on through. So make sure that email gets sent, okay?”

Keith didn’t respond, beyond shocked at what he was witnessing.

“Ta-ta, love,” Lotor said, walking off, one hand flipping his hair over his shoulder to smack Keith in the face.

Keith grit his teeth. Now he _really_ wanted to leave.

~~~

The following night Keith was beginning a brand new section of beginners salsa. He’d done this class so often he could pretty much run it on auto pilot. The first few classes would be about finding your rhythm and the beat of the music, and the basic body movements that made up dancing as a whole. From there Keith would lead them through the basic steps and moves that made a salsa, throwing in a few twirls, dips and other fun things in the last two weeks because everyone who took the class wanted something they could show off to their friends at the end of it.

He’d set up the studio, floor cleared and swept, some suitable latin music on in the background, and a few older ladies had trickled in. As he was beginning to stretch a little, the door clattered open loudly, and Keith looked up thinking that someone might have tripped, but then his eyes widened in shock.

It was Lance fucking McClain.

In his studio. His dance studio. Looking at Keith, with eyes going round as dinner plates. Lance, lifting a finger to point at Keith and shout, “You! What are you doing here?”

Keith crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, “I work here, dumbass,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” said Lance, crossing his own arms, “As what, the waterboy?”

“No.” Keith said, “As the instructor,” his voice an emotionless monotone.

“Who let _you_ be the instructor?” Lance squawked.

“Uh, the owner of the studio? When they hired me?” Keith was _so_ not in the mood to deal with Lance’s attitude. He had enough on his mind at the moment, thank you, and all he wanted to do was teach this class and then go over to Shiro’s and crash on his couch.

“You dance?” Lance asked, indignation fading into confusion.

“Uh, yeah.” Keith rolled his eyes again, a little annoyed with Lance’s mindless questions. “How do you think I got my job as a model if I didn’t have at least some sort of experience working my body?”

“I-I don’t know…” Lance answered, “I thought…”

“What, that I walked in and waved my looks around and got the job, just like you did?” Keith didn’t mean for his question to sound so prickly, but he really didn’t want to deal with Lance tonight. 

“Hey! I’ll have you know I worked really hard to get where I am.”

Keith bit back his urge to retort, “I know you did,” because if he had to explain how he knew Lance’s comprehensive work history the night would turn into a much bigger shit show than it already was. Instead he relaxed his posture and stepped back, remembering the room at large, whose other occupants were staring at the two models with various amounts of alarm on their face. 

“Look, if you don’t want to take this class, you’ll have to find another dance studio. I’m the only one here who teaches beginner salsa, so you’ll either have to suck it up or leave.”

“I’m not leaving! Leaving would be like admitting defeat, and no way am I letting you win!” Lance declared.

“All right then,” Keith said, somewhat taken aback at Lance’s competitive nature rearing its head. “Mingle with the rest of the class til it’s time to start.”

With a jerky nod, Lance headed into the crowd to do just that. None of the women recognized him, middle-aged housewives and salarymen not exactly being Lance’s target clientele, but he was okay with that. He might be really bad at dancing, and he wouldn’t want to let down any of his fans.

He made polite small talk with a few women until Keith announced it was time for them to begin. He had them all, about a dozen in total, circle up and introduce themselves, giving a few facts about themselves and telling why they’d joined the class. 

One couple was there to learn together for fun, another couple was going on a cruise at the end of the year and wanted to be able to dance every night, and one woman was there to get her sexy back- her words, not Lance’s.

When it was Lance’s turn, he gave his name, said he worked as a model, and then gave his reason.

“I’m actually here for work.” He said, trying to look as casual as possible, “I’m featuring in a music video being shot in Latin America, and they’ll double my pay if I can dance on-screen.” 

Everyone admired his dedication to his work, a few saying that it was exciting to be taking dance lessons with a model, and then the lady next to him went. It was refreshing to Lance for him to not be the center of attention. He could feel himself unwinding as they finished up introductions, but then Keith introduced himself. However, none of the cocky or self-assured attitude was present, and instead he gave a calm and steady introduction.

“My name is Keith Kogane, but you can call me Keith. I’ve been a dance instructor at this studio for a few years now, doing mainly hip hop and salsa, with a little bit of other things thrown in on the side.” Lance wondered what _that_ meant. “I’ve danced salsa and hip hop since I was a teenager, and rest assured that I’ll do everything I can to help you and make sure you have a fun experience. Feel free to come to me with any questions.”

The sheer pleasantness of his introduction left Lance wound tight with irritation again, but he tried to forget it as they all broke apart for the class to begin. They all paired up, Lance’s dance partner being a lovely forty-five year old housewife, but he wondered if he shouldn’t be dancing the female part.

Keith moved around the room, correcting posture and hand placement while alternately addressing the room at large about the basics of salsa. When he came by Lance, he smiled at the two and asked if they had any questions. Before Lance could answer, a harried looking man burst through the studio’s doors, tie loose and jacket thrown over his shoulder.

“Harry!” One of the women cried, rushing over to greet him.

“Harriet!” He responded, pulling her in for a kiss. “Did I miss much?” 

She shook her head and led him to the dance floor, “No, nothing much at all.”

The dance partner she’d abandoned looked at Keith questioningly.

“You know,” Lance said, “I do have one question. For my music video, I’m probably going to have to dance the female’s position, so I was wondering if it would be possible for me to dance with a male partner?”

Keith looked from Lance to the now partnerless man to the housewife that was Lance’s current partner. He frowned. “Yeah, but Edith is going to have to dance with Engelbert. You’re way too tall for him to handle comfortably.”

Lance scrunched up his face, “Then who am I dancing with?”

Keith’s face was a study in resigned agony. “You’ll have to dance with me,” he sighed.

“I would rather dance with anyone else in this class!” Lance declared emphatically.

“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” Keith gritted out, “But you’re like a giraffe; no one here is going to know what to do with a partner as tall as you. Hell, if it makes you feel any better, even I might have a hard time handling you.”

Lance pouted and ignored the obvious innuendos that could be made, “Oh, so, it’s going to be even harder for me to learn salsa because I’m going to have to dance with a shrimp for a partner, all because I can’t help my superior genes?”

Keith took a deep breath. He couldn’t argue with Lance in front of his class, no matter how much he might want to. “You can leave at any time,” he said.

Lance stood in the middle of the floor, couples moving around him while he thought. 

“Fine.” He grumbled at last. “But if your hand goes anywhere near my ass…”

“My hand’s already been on your ass, and I didn’t do a single thing, did I?” Keith asked as he placed one hand on Lance’s back and took one of Lance’s hands in his own, pulling him in close for the perfect salsa position “Honestly, how full of yourself can you get?”

He began moving them in the quick-quick-slow pattern he’d shown the class, tossing out pointers to the other couples as they moved past them.

“Y’know,” Lance began begrudgingly, “You’re aren’t terrible at this.”

Keith gave Lance a small smile that suddenly reminded Lance how attractive Keith was. “Yeah, it would suck if I was terrible at this,” the shorter of the two began, “I’d be teaching a lot of people in L.A. how to dance a pretty shitty salsa.”

Lance snickered. “I think some of these people really don’t need your help.” He gestured with his chin towards the couple with the man who’d come in late. They were now dancing like they were glued to each other, the only people in the room. “Those two over there seem to have it down.”

Keith chuckled, “That’s the Harrys. Harry and Harriet- or Harry, if she likes you. This is their third time through the class.”

Lance gasped, “Third?”

Keith nodded. “Yup. They get a few weeks in and then start coming late or leaving early, and they end up missing a lot of the second half of the course.”

Lance frowned, “Why are they late all the time?”

“Look at them,” Keith snorted, “It’s week one and they can barely keep their pants on. I’ve never met two people who found salsa as arousing as they do.”

“Huh,” Lance said. They danced for a few more minutes, Keith continuing to nip the errors of the other students and Lance, much to his chagrin, in the bud. During the next lull, Lance blurted out, “What’s your problem with me anyway?”

Keith looked at him, startled, his hands nearly leaving their respective positions, “What?”

“I mean- it’s pretty obvious you’ve had some kind of problem with me from the moment I walked on set.” Lance set his jaw stubbornly, “I want to know what it is.”

Keith sincerely hoped Lance couldn’t read all the thoughts rushing through Keith’s head. Was this where he revealed himself to Lance? But no, Lance wouldn't feel any kind of true remorse yet, and Keith wasn't nearly well enough established to have truly wreaked havoc on Lance’s modelling career. Lance wasn’t looking for some kind of huge fight right now, and even if Keith had wanted to have it out about what kind of person he really thought Lance was, they couldn't do it here in front of all Keith's students. 

So he couldn't tell Lance the truth- at least not all of it. But then what could he say? What version of the truth could he tell him?

“Uh…” Keith began, attempting to get his thoughts together. “I really don’t like your attitude,” he said at last. “You’re super full of yourself sometimes,” He said, drawing from his mental list of Lance’s character flaws. “And the way you flirted with me right away, when you didn’t even know me… That was super unprofessional,” he finished.

Lance furrowed his brows. “But you were glaring at me from the moment you walked on set.”

“I’m not a morning person,” Keith said, hoping he sounded confident enough to allow no argument.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Lance said. “I don’t care about your opinion anyway. Long as you’re not trying to actively fight me anymore.”

“I’ll stop fighting you when you stop being an ass,” Keith snapped back before he could help it. 

Thankfully, before the two could return to their bickering, Edith interjected that they were two minutes past the time for class to end. Keith gratefully accepted the out and called an end to the night, shaking hands and saying goodbye to the attendees. Lance gave a glare to Keith as he left, which Keith returned on instinct at this point. He wondered if this was how his brother dealt with unresolved sexual tension. Probably not. Shiro could be dense as a brick when it came to other people’s sexual interest in him. If Shiro was in his situation he’d probably _tell_ Lance about his feelings. 

Keith snorted. What a stupid idea that would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *leaves Pidge's genderqueer rant there and hopes she doesn't get too much hate for it*
> 
> I just had fun with the dance class scene? Like, imagining Lance and Keith having a whole bunch of elderly friends is so cute? Like Edith helps Lance choose flowers for their wedding? Harry and Harriet wax poetic about what their honeymoon was like to Keith and Lance? Idk man I just like the idea of young people having elders with life experience to guide them and be a source of support for them. That dance class scene was not meant to be so long, it pushed back my whole chapter outline. I guess that means the fic is a bit longer than planned; I don't think any of you count that as a problem, though, right?


	7. Powder Blue Princess Fantasy Babydoll and Garter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How can I top him if we’re on the same team?" -Keith, Most Clueless Gay in the Universe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo I don't like updating on Wednesday I'm sticking to Saturday. haha ur welcome. also to everyone commenting/leaving kudos hi I love you and you're my favorite and if you genuinely like this self-indulgent mess then I'm really glad ( ˘ ³˘)~~~♥ 
> 
> My sis read this chap and was like I feel like nothing happened and I was like I kno man plot'll do that to you.

Keith was absurdly glad he’d decided to crash on Shiro’s couch, because that meant his brother was right there to help him through the existential crisis Keith had when he got off the phone with Allura.

She’d called right as the two had finished cleaning up after dinner. Keith was surprised she even had his number, and he briefly wondered how she’d gotten it, but any passing curiosities faded from Keith’s mind when she explained her reason for calling.

Allura said she knew he and Lance didn’t get along completely smoothly, but Keith was talented. Highly talented, and professional, to be able to work past his attitude with Lance the way he had. When she’d told her superiors about how the shoot had gone, and showed them the shots, they’d been extremely curious about Keith. And knowing he wasn’t under contract to Galra Modelling yet meant they’d asked Allura to extend him an invitation for a one year contract with Altea Corp. 

She’d gone on to explain the details to a stupefied Keith. When she’d finished, she told him to consider it for a few days and call back. When Keith hung up, the shock was so evident on his face that Shiro immediately put the kettle on for a pot of tea before settling down beside Keith. 

He heard Keith rehash the conversation over soothing cups of chamomile, and after Keith finished, he sat in thought for several minutes.

“Well,” his big brother finally said, “What would you miss about Galra Modelling?”

Keith didn’t know if Shiro had meant for his very first question to be so hard-hitting, but Keith was already caught off guard. “That’s just it,” he said to Shiro, looking up at his big brother from under thick bangs that always seemed to need a haircut. “There wouldn’t be anything I missed.”

Shiro smiled warmly at Keith, all soft-worn edges and home, “And what would you regret if you didn’t take the Altea offer?”

“I don’t think I would regret not taking it,” Keith said slowly, “but I think I might end up regretting it if I do. I don’t want to work where Lance does- how can I top him if we’re on the same team?”

Shiro hummed noncommittally. “I guess you just have to do what feels right.” He ruffled Keith’s hair and stood up, “Just stay true to your heart, all right?”

Keith batted Shiro’s hand away. “Thanks Obi-Wan. Or was that Cinderella?”

“You know, I do think I look pretty great in powder blue,” Shiro called to Keith as he brought the teapot and mugs into the kitchen.

Keith just growled in frustration and pulled a throw blanket over his head, hoping he could block out the world and wake up with all the answers in the morning.

Alas, the next morning did not bring answers, only a crick in Keith’s neck from falling asleep on a too-stiff throw pillow meant for decoration, not comfort. Shiro had been no help to Keith, except to reaffirm what he already knew. Keith didn’t really want to stay at Galra Modelling, but he wasn’t too keen on moving to Altea Corp either.

Keith spent the day so deep in thought he barely noticed when it was over. His brain seemed to be stuck on the same loop, running over the same information again and again. He longed for a second opinion- or third, if you counted Shiro’s advice, which Keith didn’t. 

Day two of Keith’s existential crisis contained another beginners’ salsa class, which he didn’t have a problem with until Lance was right there in front of him, stupidly bright and beautiful and effortlessly good looking in tropical print sport leggings and a loose racerback tank. 

Lance knew something was up with Keith almost immediately after they started dancing together. He didn’t reply to Lance’s passive aggressive comments, and when Lance said something about how he’d teach salsa better than Keith only to get an uninterested hum in response, Lance knew something was definitely wrong.

“All right,” he said, steeling himself to be pushed away but unwilling to let Keith suffer in silence, “What’s got your panties in a twist? Today, specifically, I mean your panties are always in a twist but-” Lance cut himself off. He was babbling. But the last thing he wanted to do was make it look like he actually cared about Keith.

Thankfully, his word vomit was enough to catch Keith’s attention, and the other boy came back from wherever he’d zoned out to. “Nothing has my panties in a twist- I don’t even wear panties. I just- I just have a lot to think about, that’s all.”

Lance snorted as Keith twirled him in the first basic spin he’d taught the class, “You? Thinking? I wasn’t sure you even knew how.”

Keith glared at him, dipping Lance in a move he most certainly had not shown the class yet, and that put his stupid, beautiful face way too close to Lance’s own, “Don’t make me drop you,” he said lowly.

“Sorry,” Lance chuckled nervously, not wanting to get dropped on his ass in front of a bunch of people old enough to be his mom. “So you don’t wear panties, and you can indeed think. You do a lot of it in fact. You’re doing it today.” 

He risked another surreptitious look at Keith, which was hard to do when their bodies from the waist down were smooshed together so tightly they felt like they’d been superglued together. Lance kept trying to squirm away every time Keith sashayed his hips, but Keith just growled at him about form and yanked him closer. It was sweet, sweet torture. It also meant that their faces were really close to each other, so anytime Lance looked at Keith, the other boy almost invariably caught him doing so.

As he did now. “What?” Keith snapped irritably.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lance said, “It just seems pretty shitty to me that you would force someone to dance with you when you’re not even in the headspace to properly handle your partner.” 

There was a special ring of hell for making an innuendo that blatant in front of this many old people.

“You’re not even gonna try to share what’s got you in a bad mood? Try to clear your mind so you provide them with the best experience possible?” Really, Lance didn’t mean to be so horribly obnoxious, but if Keith shut him down again Lance would find the situation a whole lot easier to laugh about as one bad sex joke.

Keith nearly stopped right in the middle the dance floor, his hands unconsciously tightening on Lance, and for a moment Lance thought he was about to get chewed out for his sex jokes. But no, apparently Keith had totally missed them, and Lance didn’t know whether to be exasperated or grateful.

“I-,” He focused his gaze somewhere beneath Lance’s left earlobe. “Sorry,” he finally bit out, like it pained him to do so.

Lance grinned, “What was that?” he asked, wanting to milk the moment for all it was worth.

Keith spun them again, too fast, making Lance lose his balance and have to cling to Keith.

“Okay, okay,” Lance wheezed, “No teasing the man in charge of the dance, got it.”

“Allura asked me to sign on with Altea Corp, but I don’t know if I want to leave my spot with the Galra.”

The words were such an abrupt change of subject, such a non-sequitur, that at first Lance didn’t even process them, Keith’s hands guiding him the only reason they were still moving to the Latin American beats in the background.

“What?” Lance finally shrieked, his voice a little too loud for the low murmur of the other couples.

He blushed and sheepishly apologized to the room when some of them looked over, various shades of worried or scandalized.

“You heard me,” Keith said. “I’m just not sure I want to leave Galra Modelling.”

Lance let out a shaky laugh, “Oh, trust me,” he said, “You definitely want to leave Galra Modelling. They’re- well, I’ll just say that Altea is so much better.”

When Keith said nothing, still swaying their bodies, Lance continued, trying to ignore the warm puffs of Keith’s breath ghosting over his collar bone. “They were my first modelling company.”

“I didn’t know that,” Keith said softly, and he shouldn’t feel guilty for lying to Lance about that, that tiny trivial detail over everything else, but he did, somehow.

“Well. They were. And I didn’t think they were that bad, but- I was never good enough, for the Galra. Always more weight to be lost, a stricter diet to be on, abs to be more toned, skin to be more tanned.” Lance cut himself off. This was really personal shit, some really heavy baggage, and he didn’t know how he felt opening up to Keith of all people about it. But Keith was looking up at him, eyes open, face unguarded and so, so trusting, so Lance continued.

“I- I fell into a relationship there with someone who- was not the best for me.” He looked out at the dancers, anywhere but Keith’s face. “My friend Hunk finally told me I had to leave the Galra, and the relationship. I- I wasn’t going to make it otherwise and he- he was right. I wouldn’t have. Hunk got me on at Altea. And man.”

Here he finally looked back to Keith, his eyes sparkling with the same warmth that had drawn Keith in so long ago. “Altea is great. It just is. Allura’s strict, but she’s strict about my health, not about appearances. She just wants me to be healthy, and she knows that sometimes my eating habits aren’t the- healthiest, after what happened with the Galra, so she keeps me on track. And they’re so accepting. My other friend, Pidge, has a contract there as a genderqueer model. She gets to reject and accept jobs based on what personal gender identity she feels comfortable portraying- you know how cool that is?”

Keith swung them around once more, and they were back at the front of the room, where they’d started class, having made several full rotations. The music ended, signalling the end of the class. Lance hastily stepped back from Keith. “So, yeah, I just-” he looked at Keith, “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you coming into my turf and stealing my jobs- not that I think you’d be good enough for that- but I wouldn’t wish the Galra on anyone. Not anyone.”

That night, Keith stayed after he’d cleaned up the studio. He put on some soft, slow music, and set himself up on a pole, flexing his core and working his thighs as he went through his moves, not really dancing, just giving his body something to do while he thought.

Lance opening up to Keith like that was something Keith had never expected. It didn't weaken his resolve at all- Lance was still an asshole, he was just an asshole with issues. But it did change Keith’s view of Lance. He felt like he had a more dynamic view of him now. Whereas before he’d only seen him as a hot model with no respect for his fans, he could now see him as a person. He was beginning to separate the model from the boy- and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

It was inevitable, after hearing Lance’s not-quite-sob story, that Keith would call Allura and announce he was accepting her offer, and then call Ulaz and announce that he would not be staying with Galra Modelling. 

Keith was mildly surprised when Ulaz didn’t sound the least bit penitent or regretful that Keith was leaving. The man was as brusque as always, and took Keith’s quitting like he might take news of an update in the company’s dental plan.

Allura, however, was ecstatic, and announced that this news couldn’t have come at a better time, as she had a big project she was starting today. After hearing that Keith would be free after five pm, the time his last class finished that day, she asked that he come down to Altea Modelling immediately afterward so the two of them could settle the paperwork and she could introduce him to the first project she had in mind for him.

The paperwork took much less time than Keith thought it would, Allura walking him through a simple contract that simply stated what his rights as an employee were and what they’d require of him. Keith had no problems with it, and right as they were finishing up who should walk in but Lance, followed by two people Keith hadn’t met before.

Everyone in the room could see Lance winding himself up to throw a fit about seeing Keith in Allura’s office, but suddenly all the tension drained from his frame and he simply smiled. 

“So you decided to take her up on her offer then?” he asked.

Keith’s face was completely blank as he said, “Yeah.”

Lance grinned, “Well I’m glad to hear it! Let me introduce you!” 

He turned to the people standing slightly behind him, “This is Hunk, actual Jesus and cinnamon roll, and this is Pidge, genderqueer but she/her pronouns are preferred. Guys, this is Keith.”

Hunk grinned, “It’s so nice to finally meet you in person.”

“In person?” Keith tilted his head to the side. Lance felt his gay heart explode from the cuteness. 

“Uh- nothing,” Lance said, glaring at Hunk, who seemed to have realized that he’d unintentionally referred to Lance’s futile pining and then unabiding hatred for the model before them.

Pidge, meanwhile, was squinting at Keith. “What did you say your last name was?” She asked.

“Uh, I didn’t,” Keith responded. “But it’s Kogane. Keith Kogane.”

Her eyes lit up, “Are you Shiro’s little brother? The one who teaches pole dancing?”

Keith’s face remained nonchalant, while Lance went red as a tomato. “I don’t actually teach any classes, but yeah, I do a lot of choreography and one-on-one lessons for talents who want to learn. How do you know my brother?”

“Your big brother is dating my big brother! I’m Matt’s little sibling,” Pidge explained excitedly.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Lance interjected, “You’re telling me Keith,” here he gesticulated wildly in said boy’s direction, “Uptight, angsty, emo boy Keith… can pole dance?!” His voice had gotten higher as he’d talked, and by the end it was a shrill squeak.

“Uh, yeah?” Keith was looking at Lance like he’d grown a second head, “Why does this surprise you? Also, I’m not uptight or angsty or emo, and-”

“Nuh-uh, cutting you off there because denying it only makes you look guiltier-” 

“That’s for crimes, Lance,” Pidge deadpanned.

“Keith pole dancing _is_ a crime!”

“Why would it be a crime?” Hunk asked, bemused at the drama unfolding in Allura’s office.

Lance stopped, unable to explain his reasons in a way that didn’t make him look like he was crushing- _ugh_ \- on Keith.

“I- I don’t know. It just doesn’t match his image,” he huffed.

“Your face doesn’t match your image,” Keith retorted under his breath.

“What was that, you-”

“Now, now, boys,” Allura cut in, seeing their bickering was going from good natured to hot headed. “I’d like you two to put your rivalry on the backburner, because what I’ve gathered you all here to speak about will require that you work together.”

“And just what is it you want us to work on?” Lance asked.

“I need your help,” Allura said, standing up from her desk. “I want you all to join me, so that together, we can form Voltron.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *does the fanfic thing where you include famous lines from the show*  
> *author cred +10*
> 
> me: gosh, that last chapter felt pretty heavy  
> me to me: yeah good job on that poignant writing. ppl will think ur a Real Author™  
> me: oh no we can't have that. we'd better go back to memes and crack


	8. Bad in Plaid Ruffled Panty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith have a bonding moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, AYEKILLME commented that I should bring back the memes... well. I did.

“Vol… tron?” Keith asked. He looked at the other three models in the room, “Do any of you know what she’s talking about?”

“Not a clue,” Hunk said blithely.

“Voltron is going to be the next big thing in fashion,” Allura began, “I am collaborating with a high end designer to bring Altea out of the modelling industry and into the fashion world, and you all are going to be the face of the brand.”

“All right,” said Lance, “I don’t have a problem with that, but like, you don’t know a thing about sewing?”

Allura smiled, “That’s why I will be working with our expert tailor friend every step of the day- ah, speaking of, here he is now- Coran Wimbleton Smythe, head of Wimbleton Smythe fashion.”

The man who had just entered the room was polished, with a shockingly orange, shockingly large mustache. His outfit looked like he’d gone on a jungle safari through a fabric store, prints and patterns warring with each other on knickerbockers and a button down shirt. To complete the look Coran was even wearing a pith helmet, covered in at least five different swatches of velvet.

“Allura, my dear, always good to see you!” He cried.

The two hugged and kissed each other on the cheek before he turned to look at the four models before him. “So! Introduce me to the intrepid young talents!”

“This is Lance McClain,” Allura began, “Victoria’s Secret Angel and top grossing model for Altea. Next to him is Hunk, a model of unparalleled talent who’s worked with Altea nearly since the beginning, and at the back there is Pidge- she’s representing the genderqueer demographic I’m so excited to be catering to with this project.” 

Allura took a deep breath before finishing, “And this is Keith, one of our newest models. He’s a breath of fresh air with a powerful presence.” 

She turned to face Coran, giving him her full attention. “I firmly believe each of these models will bring invaluable talents to this project. I’ve only assembled the best and the brightest for you, Coran.”

“But of course, Allura! I trust your judgement when it comes to these kinds of things” he said, twirling his mustache and looking over them like he was already envisioning them in his clothes.

With introductions out of the way, the group moved to the conference room, some of Allura’s harried minions following them with tablets, coffee, and binders of plans and references. The next three hours were spent hashing out the fine details.

Long term plans for Voltron included sportswear, lingerie, semi formal- but their debut line would be street casual, with lots of hoodies, leggings, loose tees, and things that people could wear all day, sleep in, and wear all the next day while still looking high fashion. Allura said she wasn’t joking when she wanted to have customers _living_ in Voltron clothing.

Things went mostly smoothly, with the minions collecting measurements of the models and snapping photographs of them while Coran and Allura sat at the conference table sketching like mad. The only problem came when Coran tried to convince Allura of plans for a sport legging in corduroy. Allura argued that no one would buy it, as corduroy was stiff, heavy and didn’t breathe, three things that they were making a requirement for every garment in the collection. Pidge, sitting off to the side and bored now that they’d had measurements and photographs taken, interjected that every time she went to the gym, she saw people in corduroy. People wore corduroy as a sports fabric all the time. Coran whole heartedly thanked Pidge for her support, and Allura dismissed the models to get dinner and go home, basically throwing them out of the conference room.

The group had dinner at a restaurant not too far from Altea, Lance bemoaning his life as he asked for a salad with the low carb entree option. The three models integrated Keith into their dynamic quickly, with Keith being perfectly happy to sit back and take in the conversation. He occasionally contributed witty comments, and responded to questions the others asked- almost entirely Hunk and Pidge, as Lance seemed at a bit of a loss as to how to handle him.

Eventually, they all made to head home, Hunk and Pidge splitting off from Keith and Lance at the closest station. The two walked in silence for close to ten minutes, each waiting for the other to turn away towards their own home. Finally, when they were only a few blocks from Keith’s apartment complex, he couldn’t take the increasing tension.

“Look,” he yelled, spinning to face Lance, “Just say whatever you have to say!”

Lance’s face was blank in surprise, “I-what?”

Keith narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “Aren’t you following me home because you have something to say?”

Lance’s own eyes narrowed, his arms crossing, “No, I’m not _following_ you, I happen to live here. I think _you’re_ following me!”

“Why would I be following you, I swear to God you’re so-”

“I don’t know why you would be following me, but I know that makes more sense than me following you! You have a problem!”

By now, Keith was toe to toe with Lance, their foreheads nearly touching as they invaded each other’s personal space, “ _I_ have a problem? I do? ME? Oh, I’m sorry but have you _met yourself_ you insufferable-”

Keith’s tirade was cut short by a crack of lightning and almost immediate boom of thunder. Then, in the next second, sheets of rain fell, almost immediately soaking the two.

“Shit!” yelled Lance, “Run!”

He grabbed Keith’s hand and made a hard left at the next intersection, booking it towards his apartment building.

“Dude, this is not the way to my apartment!” Keith yelled. A part of him recognized that, and was angry at Lance for it, but another part had gone very still and quiet, focusing on Lance’s hand in his. Lance’s hand was so _warm_ , and softer than Keith’s own, and Keith had a flashback to the photo shoot, and how all of Lance was so warm and soft, and he stayed this warm even in the pouring rain, and oh look Lance was stopping he must have heard Keith.

“This is my apartment,” Lance said, “How far off is yours?”

,

Keith grimaced, resisting the urge to shake his head now that they were under the awning in front of Lance’s building and out of the rain. “Another few blocks”

Lance tapped his foot and frowned, thinking hard for a few moments. “Stay in my apartment until the rain stops, you can’t walk home in this weather.” He cut a glare at Keith, “But if you were lying about not following me and you’re actually a stalker trying to find out my apartment number, now is the time to tell me, because I have a baseball bat and I am _not_ afraid to use it.”

“Okay,” Keith said blandly, “I thought we’d figured out that neither of us were following the other, but your warning is noted, and I’m fine going home the rest of the way, thanks.”

As if the heavens had a personal vendetta against him, the rain increased and a large wind whipped up. 

Lance grinned, looking almost smug, “You sure about that?”

Keith’s lips thinned. “Lead the way, your Royal Assness.”

Lance ignored the dig and simply opened the doors to the lobby, walking back to the elevators and pressing a button- not for the top floor, Keith noted.

“What,” he asked, “No penthouse?”

Lance frowned, “What would I do with a penthouse?”

The rest of the short ride was spent in silence, and when they got to Lance’s apartment the Cuban boy was shivering with the cold.

“Wait here,” he said to Keith, “I’ll get you some towels.”

Lance disappeared deeper within the apartment, leaving Keith to look at where Lance lived his life. The main area was open, with a kitchen to Keith’s right, separated from the living area by a breakfast bar, a TV mounted on the wall opposite the kitchen, and a comfy looking L-shaped couch and battered coffee table in front of it. Across from where Keith stood there was a sliding glass door and a balcony with a lounge chair and lots of potted plants that were currently getting soaked. There was a hallway beside the kitchen that Keith guessed must lead to the bedrooms and such.

His guess was confirmed when Lance emerged from said hallway, his wet clothes exchanged for a thin white t shirt and soft grey sweatpants that hung off his hips. He carried two towels, one he was rubbing across his own hair, the other he handed to Keith.

Keith took it, but before he towelled off his own hair he gave it a good shake, flinging droplets all across Lance’s entryway.

“Seriously, dude?” Lance squawked, spots of water speckling his t shirt translucent. “That was so not necessary.”

Keith ignored him in favor of towelling off his hair and face. He paused for a moment, considering, before moving to pull off his wet shirt. Lance had a split second to admire the flex of Keith’s arms and the toned strip of abdomen framed so beautifully by those chiselled hip bones before he snapped and said, “Hey- Hey, wait, don’t go stripping in other people’s apartments.”

Keith stopped, but glared at Lance, “My shirt is getting clammy, and I’m not about to keep it on all night.” He looked toward the door, as if debating whether or not he should just brave the storm. 

“I’m not about to make you stay in your wet clothes,” Lance retorted, “But I am going to make you change in the bathroom, like a normal human being.”

“Oh.” Keith said, surprised. “Yeah. Right. Bathroom, your bathroom. Changing. In your bathroom.” Keith’s cheeks were pinking, and he sounded like an idiot. It was just now dawning on him that he was alone with Lance fucking McClain, an international sex symbol, and that he was going to be naked in a place where Lance had also been naked. The absurdity of the whole thing was getting to Keith, and he was feeling a bit giddy, like he’d felt when he discovered a new photo shoot of Lance’s he hadn’t seen before.

His flustered state had Lance squinting, wondering if Keith was feeling all right. “I don’t have any clothes here. I mean, I’m wearing clothes, now, obviously, but. I don’t. Have a change of clothes.”

Lance turned around and began walking towards the bathroom. If Keith was getting a fever or something, Lance just hoped it held off until the other boy was out of his apartment. Lance couldn’t afford to get sick right now.

“Of course you don’t have a change of clothes, doofus,” Lance said, opening the door to the bathroom, “You’ll just wear mine. I’ll go grab some.”

He could’ve sworn Keith squeaked when he said that, but when he looked back Keith looked the same as he always did- a bit more like a drowned rat what with his wet hair but other than that, slightly annoyed, standoffish- yeah, that was Keith. 

“Feel free to take a shower if you want,” Lance said before leaving.

As soon as Lance shut the door behind himself Keith slapped his hands to his cheeks to see if they were as warm as he feared they were. He’d thought he’d gotten over being in awe of Lance, but then again he’d never even imagined taking a shower in said model’s bathroom. 

Meanwhile, Lance was having an existential crisis of his own. He had sweatpants and shirts galore that would fit Keith. But the problem was underwear. Being a lingerie model for so long meant that Lance had gotten lots and lots of complimentary products, and even beyond that he was a bit of an enthusiast for cute panties. All this meant that while he had plenty of tight cut briefs and boyshorts, he was almost one hundred percent sure he didn’t own a single pair of underwear that didn’t have lace or a bow or straps or _something_ on it _somewhere_.

Lance was well aware that his everyday go-to briefs and hipsters were what other girls would wear only on Valentine’s day, and that even his most masculine underwear he could offer would probably be way too effeminate for Keith to feel comfortable wearing. Also, what if Keith didn’t want to wear Lance’s underwear period? Jesus, that’s where Lance really should have started his thinking, it was weird to offer someone used underwear to wear, even if they were cleaned and shit. Lance was such an idiot.

He moved his search away from his underwear drawer and into his closet looking for any panties with the tags still on them. Finally he found some from a PR campaign he’d been involved in several months ago that he hadn’t worn yet. They were red and black plaid with black ruffles on the leg holes and top hem, and Lance didn’t often feel like dressing punk. But these were unworn boyshorts with no lace, so maybe Keith would be okay with it?

When he came back to the bathroom, he knocked only to be greeted by a freshly showered Keith opening the door. So freshly showered that he still had drops of water running down his chest, carving out his pectorals and- Lance shook his head firmly and offered up the clothes to Keith, the panties sitting innocently on top.

Instead of taking the whole pile, Keith gingerly picked up the panties by each side, holding them up to get a good look.

“What are these?” Keith asked, confusion in his voice.

“Well, I don’t exactly have like- regular old boxers on hand. I’m a Victoria's Secret Angel I’m not going to keep a six pack of Hanes for men lying around. These are the closest thing I’ve got.” Lance dared Keith to say anything.

He inspected them for a few more moments before putting them back on the pile and taking the clothes from Lance. “They’re cute,” Keith shrugged, “I hope they’re comfortable.”

With that, he closed the door, leaving Lance gaping like a fish out of water. Why was it that no matter what Keith did, it surprised Lance?

Keith found he liked the boy shorts. They were tighter than boxer briefs, but whatever material they were was softer than anything Keith had ever felt before. He gave a little spin in front of the mirror, liking how the boy shorts made him look. They made his ass… perky. He snapped a pic to send to Shiro, knowing his brother would find it hilarious.

When he came back out, Lance was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone. When he saw Keith, he lazily waved one hand at him. Keith gingerly joined him, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

“So,” Lance began, “It is currently 10:01 pm. If you want to spend the night here, feel free. You can have the couch. Or I can share the bed.”

At Keith’s startled face Lance laughed, “Dude I have a king, we can sleep on opposite ends of the bed and never know the other person is there.” He referenced one of his favorite memes, “Just two dudes, chilling in a bed, five feet apart cuz we’re not gay.”

Keith looked confused, and mildly offended. “But I am gay.”

Lance ignored the (traitorous, traitorous) part of himself that perked up in excitement at that and said, “No, Keith, it’s just a meme. A joke.”

When Keith’s face showed no recognition, Lance gasped. “Oh my god, Keith, do you know what memes are?”

Keith frowned, “They’re those minion pictures on facebook with block text around them?”

“Oh no, oh God no,” Lance said, “No wonder you’re such an uptight meanie butt, if you’re living a memeingless life I should be glad you’re as laid back as you are.” He stood up, heading to his bedroom.

“A meanie butt? What are you, six? Where are you going?” Keith called after him.

“Just stay there,” Lace called back. “I’m getting my laptop I’ll be right back.”

When he came in, he hooked his laptop up to his TV, and proceeded to show Keith all his favorite memes. For some reason unbeknownst to Lance, Keith cried tears of laughter at any meme involving quotes from Shrek. And while Lance stood up and danced along to the avocado song, Keith seemed almost afraid of the overly chipper woman singing the children’s song. 

By the time they were both too tired to laugh at any more stupid videos, it was nearly one a.m. 

“I never even showed you the hot tub meme that started all this,” Lance muttered from under his throw blanket. 

“It’s fine,” Keith murmured back, arms wrapped around an overstuffed throw pillow, “Show it to me in the morning.”

“Are you sleeping on the bed?” Lance asked.

“I don’t wanna get up, so no,” Keith responded.

“No fair,” Lance grumbled, “I don’t wanna get up either.”

“Then don’t,” Keith said pragmatically, his tone a little marred by the breathy sleepiness in it. “Your couch is big enough for an entire NBA team. We’ll be fine.”

“Kay,” Lance murmured happily, rolling over to curl into the back of the couch. “Hey Keith?”

“Yeah?”

“Still think you’re kind of a prick.”

“Feeling’s mutual, Lance.”

The next morning, Lance made breakfast. Which apparently, to Lance, meant coffee and a granola bar. Not that Keith was complaining. They’d washed his clothes last night, so Keith was back in his own underwear, though Lance told Keith to keep the pair he’d given him last night. 

The two exchanged numbers before they parted ways, the morning having been spent in the bickering that was coming to define their relationship. Keith was coming to see that Lance was really nice to Keith, even if their personalities clashed. But Lance was being nice to Keith the supermodel. Not Keith the fanboy. He couldn’t help but wonder how Lance would treat him if he knew. Would he be so willing to share a couch with a creepy fanboy? Would he give his number to someone he felt used him in their dirty fantasies? Would he make coffee and give clothes to someone who made him hate his job?

The night had been nice, and when Keith had woken up that morning, the previous evening had been tinged in a rosy glow, but as he headed back to his own apartment the memories soured, Keith wondering how someone so kind to his friends could be so prejudiced against his fans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just used like every trope I've ever seen involving rain and sleep overs, and I should be sorry about that, but I'm NOT. ALSO NEXT TIME I UPDATE WE ALL WILL HAVE WATCHED SEASON THREE AND ACTUALLY KNOW WHAT LOTOR IS LIKE AND WHAT HIS GENERALS ARE LIKE AND WOW WHAT A TERRIFYING AND EXHILARATING THOUGHT THIS IS WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE ALIVE


	9. Absolutely Sickening Formal Black Panty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance was in awe of the guy who’d just walked in. He looked like Chris Hemsworth had become a stay at home dad. He looked like a Calvin Klein model had been put in a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. He looked like every wet dream and fantasy fifteen-year-old Lance had ever had. And he was also trying to wrangle Keith into a hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *SPOILER FOR SEASON THREE SKIP THIS NOTE IF YA DON'T WANT SPOILERS*  
> I wrote this on July second, but tbh this chapter feels even more appropriate in light of season three and all the pain the Shiro fans are going thru. Is he a clone? Will he live? Did Lauren Montgomery put so many versions of Shiro in just to show us how much worse his haircut could get after hearing the Fandom Hair Discourse™? I don't know, but I do know that this chapter is wildly self indulgent bc I fuckign do what I want and don't care how thin the plot is stretched. I'm gonna make what I want to happen, happen. And what I want is for Shiro to get every happiness available to him.
> 
> Also, to anyone reading this note in the future after all the seasons have aired and all our questions have been answered: Fuck you, man.

Lance seemed to have decided that one sleepover and several hours of youtube videos meant he and Keith were friends. The model now texted Keith at all hours of the day with jumbled strings of emojis and seemingly random thoughts. Keith almost never texted back, uncomfortable with the sudden shortening of the distance between them. 

Preparing for the release of the Voltron line meant endless planning meetings and fittings, with Allura and Coran deciding which pieces were to actually go into production and, more importantly, which pieces they wanted on the models for the advertising campaign and upcoming pre-release party for all of Voltron’s financial backers. 

Since there was time before the first Voltron photo shoot, Keith got to focus on his work at the dance studio and not go down to the modelling agency. He was almost glad, because it meant he got time away from Lance to think. 

As Keith worked through some new choreography with the youth hip hop team, he debated whether or not he ought to pull back from Lance. Keith wanted to prove himself over Lance in a way that left no room for questions about who was better. Being friends with Lance while actively working to push him out of his top spot felt… dishonest. It felt vaguely _wrong_ to be plotting against Lance when he kept sending thumbs up and googly eye emojis. But then again it seemed almost fitting if one of the pathetic fanboys Lance hated used McClain’s own connections against him. Keith wanted someone to do it… he just didn’t necessarily want it to be him. Did he?

As he helped a backup dancer work out some pole dancing moves for a music video, he wondered what exactly Lance's attitude towards his fans was- there might be things responsible for Lance’s attitude that Keith didn’t know about. But even if Lance had reasons for his behavior- that didn’t make it okay. Right? 

Keith walked out of his once a week intermediate salsa class wishing he had someone to talk to about this. Shiro had made it quite clear he thought Keith’s approach to the entire situation was ill advised, and Keith didn’t want a lecture about honesty and maturity. He wanted somebody to tell him he wasn’t stupid for being so confused about Lance and that there was a quick and easy fix to the situation.

A shoot with Victoria’s Secret kept Lance out of Keith’s beginner salsa class, and scheduling kept them from seeing each other at Altea (something Keith suspected was an intentional move on Allura’s part so she didn’t have to deal with their bickering).

All of this meant that Keith and Lance had very little interaction with each other between their sleepover and the day of the first photo shoot. Even though he’d had time to reconcile the things he’d recently learned about Lance with the things he already knew, Keith walked onto the set just as confused as when he’d walked away from Lance’s apartment with that panicky feeling in his chest.

“Morning Grumpy-guss!” Lance called a little too cheerfully for the early morning hour, “You never texted me back last night, I’m hurt.”

“I never text you back period,” Keith said flatly, not willing to even put on a pretense of good will this early in the morning. He wasn’t grumpy. He just hadn’t had coffee yet.

“You text me back,” Hunk jumped in.

“I don’t even have your number,” Keith said incredulously.

Lance gasped, “Are you saying you don’t like my emojis?”

Keith ignored him in favor of taking a long sip of his black coffee.

Pidge wandered over to join them, and soon enough Allura and Coran came over as well to give the models their instructions.

“So I want to start with individual shots,” Allura said. “Our photographer is going to see you one at a time before he decides who he wants to use together for group shots. Hunk, you’re up first; I need you all in hair and makeup ASAP.”

Recognizing that it was time for the work day to begin, the models left the seating area and headed for the hair and makeup crew. Allura and Coran only had one or two finalized looks completed for each model. Lance was informed that if he spilled anything on his jersey leggings he was going to have to go home, because they had literally no other completed bottoms for him.

Some might have said Allura was rushing production by wanting to start advertising so early on, but she wanted to tantalize the public with continuous leaks and hints until Voltron’s public release. The pre-launch party for backers and partners was happening that Saturday, and the shots they took today would be the deciding factor as to whether or not to invest in Voltron.

After Hunk’s shots, Pidge was called forward, leaving the other three to continue entertaining themselves. Lance had decided to take a nap, while Hunk and Keith chatted casually.

A sudden buzz from Keith’s phone announced that he had a text from Shiro. Keith wasn’t surprised; he’d spent the night before at his brother’s house and Shiro liked to text the next day and tell him how nice it was to see his little brother, but the contents of the text had him shooting up in his chair in surprise.

**Shiro:**   
_Hey! You forgot the lunch I made you last night .·´¯`( >▂<)´¯`·. I’ll bring it to you. Send me your address (ノ*゜▽゜*) You have a shoot today, right? Very Important for you to EAT <3<3 _

**Keith:**   
_I do not need a lunch and you do not get to come to my work. I know what you are trying to do. I am not letting what happened at the dance studio happen at Altea._

**Shiro:**   
_｡･ﾟﾟ･( >д<)･ﾟﾟ･｡ _

**Keith:**   
_Shiro ladies at the studio STILL ask about my “nice older brother.” NO._

**Shiro:**   
_I thought it would come to this. Which is why I texted Matt, who texted Pidge ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭✧Turns out Altea has photo studios on one of their floors?（ꉺᗜꉺ）Pidge was all too happy to let the front desk know to give me a guest pass (≧∇≦)/ See you in a few!_

Keith leapt up and let out a strangled yelp. Hunk gave him a startled look and Lance cracked open an eye to glare at Keith. 

“You got a problem there, mullet head?”

“Nope,” Keith said tightly, “I just have to murder that gremlin over there posing as a human being.”

“Gremlin?” Hunk asked. “Oh. You mean Pidge. Ha! That’s kinda funny. Because she’s short and mischievous.”

Lance frowned, “You’re about to murder Pidge? Why?”

“Because-” Keith started, just as the doors to the studio opened, stealing the words from Keith’s mouth.

A starstruck secretary was leading Shiro, pointing him in Keith’s direction. The man had a goddamned brown paper bag in one hand. Jesus Christ. There was no way this was going to go end in anything but utter embarrassment. Keith wondered if it was too late to go hide in a bathroom.

It wasn’t that Shiro wanted to cause trouble per se. It was just that he found it utterly hilarious to tease Keith, and stopping by his little brother’s workplace was one of his favorite ways to do it. It had been ever since Keith had gotten his very first job at Taco Bell. Shiro would walk in and order something every day, grinning bemusedly while Keith radiated fury over a quesarito or Doritos Locos Taco.

No one at any of Keith’s jobs had ever had a problem with it. Bosses and customers alike fawned over Shiro and thought he was just the most delightful person. In fact, they all liked him a little too much, and after seeing how Shiro just let Keith’s prickly attitude roll off him, his coworkers found Keith a lot less intimidating. 

One girl had even told him that he was a cute little brother, which was enough for Keith to know that he absolutely did not want any sort of similar incident happening around Lance. But apparently it was happening, because Shiro was heading right for him, and Allura was heading to intercept him, no doubt about to inquire who this stranger was that had just wandered onto her photo shoot.

“Keith!” Shiro called out happily as the boy in question ran up to him and hissed, “Don’t do this, Shiro, please, I’ll watch every Nicholas Sparks movie with you, I’ll watch The Bachelor with you, I’ll do anything, just please leave and don’t embarrass me in front of my coworkers.”

Shiro laughed goodnaturedly, “I would never embarrass you, Keith! I couldn’t do that to my cute baby brother.” Shiro patted Keith’s head, a maniacal gleam in his eye that said there was no way Keith was getting out of this.

“Shiro,” Keith whined, “Everything about what you just said and did was SUPER embarrassing!”

By now a crowd had gathered around them. Lance was in awe of the guy who’d just walked in. He looked like Chris Hemsworth had become a stay at home dad. He looked like a Calvin Klein model had been put in a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. He looked like every wet dream and fantasy fifteen-year-old Lance had ever had. And he was also trying to wrangle Keith into a hug.

Lance didn’t know what to do with the unexpected stab of jealousy that curled through his gut. He told himself it was because Keith was getting manhandled by such a stellar specimen, and Lance wanted to be in those toned arms instead. He was definitely not jealous because Keith was obviously super close with this Adonis incarnate. Not that Lance wanted to be close enough with Keith to hug him. He was just… offended. Offended that someone was this close to Keith when Keith was so prickly with Lance. Yeah, that was it.

The commotion in the studio had the photographer declaring everyone was getting a ten minute break. Pidge rocketed over to the pair and launched herself into the man’s arms, shouting, “Shiro!”

Lance had never been jealous of Pidge until this minute. But now he was extremely envious of her place in that man’s- Shiro’s- arms.

“Pidge!” Keith yelled. “I can’t believe you let my brother in here! You’re a traitor and I hate you!”

Pidge snorted, still held securely in Shiro’s arms and showing no signs of moving. “If you want to get Matt mad at you by making Shiro withhold sex from him, be my guest.”

The tips of Shiro’s ears reddened as he sputtered, “I- I don’t, Pidge, you’re too young to-”

“So this is your brother’s boyfriend! And your brother!” Hunk said happily. “That’s a little confusing, actually, in this situation.”

Allura, from where she had hung back watching the situation unfold, finally stepped in, “I’m sorry, but who, exactly, are you?” she said with a blindingly professional smile and eyes filled with the hunger of a predator on the hunt. Lance hoped that was a hunger for talent and not… other things. 

Shiro smiled and extended a hand, “Sorry, my name is Takashi Shirogane, I’m Keith’s older brother. I came to drop off his lunch.”

Her eyes slid over his body like she was already picturing him naked and oiled. So Allura’s interest was _definitely_ not professional then, Lance noted. Shiro shifted uncomfortably.

“And Pidge said something about you being her brother’s boyfriend?” Her eyes were slitted with interest.

“Ah, yes, Matthew Holt is my partner of several years now,” Shiro said. The stupid blush that he got whenever he talked about his stupid boyfriend deepened. 

“We’ll see about that,” Allura muttered under her breath. Lance’s eyes widened. An interested Allura was an Allura on the warpath, but if Matt was anything like Pidge then he’d be stubborn enough to give Allura a run for her money. Suddenly Lance was very glad he wasn’t in Shiro’s position. 

But just then something Shiro had said stuck in Lance’s ear.

“Wait,” he said, beginning to grin like a cat who’d just got the cream, “You said you’re here because you brought Keith’s _lunch_?” 

“Ah, yes, he forgot it at my place, and I know Pad Thai is one of his favorites.”

Lance started cackling, half at Keith’s ridiculous, amazing older brother- because seriously, wasn’t Keith a little old to be getting brown-bagged lunches, and what brother would _show up at their work_ to give it to their sibling, and didn’t he know lunch was provided at these things- and half at the utter humiliation on Keith’s face. Lance had a million questions, but before he could ask any of them Allura interrupted again. She stepped up right in front of Shiro and slipped a business card into the pocket on the front of his t shirt. 

“My name is Allura,” she purred, hand lingering on Shiro’s pec, “And if you ever feel inclined to… offer me your services,” she grinned, showing a few too many teeth, “I’d be _so_ very interested.” She stepped back, admiring the blush and look of discomfort on Shiro’s face. “Feel free to call,” she said airily, “I know I could do great things with that body.”

Shiro sputtered and handed Keith his lunch quickly. “I- thank you for the offer but- I’m really not- I have to go.” And with that he turned and power-walked towards the exit. 

Allura chuckled darkly and turned back to her assistants while Lance, Hunk and Pidge all shared looks of pity. “She’s going to eat him alive,” Hunk said.

“Not if my brother has anything to say about it,” Pidge replied. “Shiro just became the child in a custody battle to end all custody battles.”

Keith chimed in, “I’ve never seen Shiro run off that fast. Normally he hangs around as long as possible.”

Lance laughed, “What, he comes and checks out every place you work at?”

Keith’s dead stare assured Lance that’s exactly what happened. Lance started laughing again, cackling like a hyena, and Hunk had to hold Keith back to prevent him from throwing the cold Pad Thai at Lance- after all, he only had one pair of bottoms.

~~~

The pre-launch party on Saturday evening was a far cry from any party Keith had ever experienced. Allura had selected the suits they were each to wear, along with strict instructions not to drink too much and an alphabetized list of which foods they could and could not eat from the buffet table. 

She was in her element, elegantly navigating her way through the crowds of high ranking corporate executives and showing off her paladins- the term she’d decided to use for the models. Apparently they were going to be color coordinated and themed in the near future.

The group spent the night schmoozing with potential backers, talking up the brand and graciously accepting compliment after compliment about how good they looked in the promotional photos displayed around the party.

Lance and Keith spent a good portion of the night standing beside each other, fielding questions and comments while smiling pleasantly and making sure none of the tipsier men got too close. Keith found himself laughing and smiling at more than a few of Lance’s jokes, as well as being reminded of Lance’s grace and poise when it came to public speaking.

He himself was not nearly so well-possessed, and was glad Lance had stuck near him tonight to do most of the talking and hadn’t left Keith to fend for himself.

The crowd was large, Allura’s extensive connections within the fashion industry meaning that nearly everybody who was somebody was there tonight participating in the hype for Voltron.

Unfortunately, that meant Galra Modelling was present, along with Lotor. Keith had seen him several times throughout the course of the evening, slinking around the room and sending a lot of looks Keith’s way. At least Keith assumed it was his way. To his knowledge, Lotor didn’t know Lance. But regardless, when Lotor stood off to the side staring unblinkingly at Keith for a full minute, he couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Hey Lance,” he said under his breath, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Lance gave him a look, probably wondering where Keith was headed, but nodded nonetheless.

Keith made straight for Lotor, who flipped his hair over the shoulder of his impeccably fitted charcoal suit and smirked infuriatingly at Keith. 

“Come over to say hello?” He asked flippantly.

“No,” Keith gritted out, “I came over to tell you to stop staring and being creepy.”

Lotor gave a flash of teeth, “So I take it you don’t want to come back to the Galra then. Pity. But if you’re enjoying your sloppy seconds that much, who am I to take you away?”

Keith frowned, “Sloppy seconds? Altea isn’t your sloppy seconds.”

“Oh no, sweetheart,” Lotor threw back his head and laughed, the sound entirely too pretty to be so mocking, “Altea is most _definitely_ not my sloppy seconds. Lance is.”

Keith felt a dawning horror inside him as suddenly a million things made sense- Lance’s need to leave the Galra, his bad relationship, and Lotor’s sudden interest in them all night becoming clear in the worst way as the Galra model continued, “That poor, pathetic excuse for a model crawled to Altea on his hands and knees after I’d finished with him, and judging by the way you’ve been hanging off him like a _limpet_ all night I imagine you must be quite enamored with his… how do I put this politely? Charms?” Lotor shook his head slightly, “No that’s not quite right.” He snapped his fingers, as if coming to a realization. Keith resisted the urge to punch him. “His fucking.”

“I’m not- _enamored_ with anything. In fact, I think I’m mostly disgusted that you’d talk about another human being that way,” Keith’s voice was tight with emotion.

Lotor cocked his head, a few stray strands of hair falling across his face, “No? Your eyes have tracked him around the room all night long. If you aren’t fucking him now, you want to be. But I had him before you, and I tell you what, because I like your spirit, and because you were, for however short a time, my subordinate, I’ll give you a warning.”

Keith made to move away, “I don’t want to hear _anything_ you have to say you _disgusting_ -” But Lotor reached out and grabbed Keith’s arm in an iron grasp, pulling him close. Because they were off to the side of the room, no one noticed anything amiss.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Lotor tutted, wagging a finger on his free hand. “I’m only trying to help. Don’t be an ungrateful little bitch. I’ve been where you are. You think you want to fuck the Latino boy? Well, let me tell you something.” He leaned in even closer, teeth sharp as needles and words even sharper, “I’ve been there, fucked that, and underneath that sunshiny twink exterior is an airport’s worth of baggage.” He leaned back a bit to look into Keith’s eyes. 

Keith was huffing, breath coming faster and faster. “Issues on top of issues,” he said in a sing song voice, enunciating each word clearly and carefully, “The only thing worth having there… is his body.”

“It’s not like that,” Keith grunted, struggling to twist out of Lotor’s grasp. “You don’t know _anything_ , except how to be a manipulative piece of shit.”

Lotor laughed, letting Keith go at last, “I know what I’ve seen tonight, and what I’ve seen from you is _want_ , plain and simple. You can deny it all you want, but I’m telling you, he’s _not. Worth. Having._ ”

Keith bared his teeth at Lotor and turned back to the crowd, walking off with Lotor’s melodic laugh ringing in his ears.

The rest of the night was ruined for Keith. He smiled politely and spoke when spoken to, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet Lance’s eyes or to talk to him. As soon as Allura let them know they could leave, Keith flung himself into the first taxi he could. He wished it wasn’t so late so he could go to the dance studio and work his body into exhaustion until the need for sleep overpowered his mind. As it was, he didn’t fall asleep until the wee hours of the morning, his mind going in circles as he kept hearing the awful, chilling things Lotor had said resonate in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When my sis gave me this outline Lotor wasn't even in it, but bc I'm a wHoRE for self-possessed, slick villains I included him. When I write him, its a mix of evil Viktor Nikiforov, unseelie fae, the lead vocalist of Vie Ghoul (that's the actual Skip Beat tie-in!). My Lotor is a bit crazier than canon Lotor buuuuut I wrote this pre season three and I ain't about to rewrite this now.
> 
> Also if anyone is planning on cosplaying Lotor hmu so we can talk shop on how best to tackle that stupid armor bodysuit thing.


	10. Silky Intimate Bra and Panty in Soft Ochre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor's encounter has left Keith off-kilter, and unfortunately it affects everyone around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The absolute trash trope scene at the end is 100% plotted by my sis. I wrote the dialogue that's about it. Also people threw Lotor hate last chapter??? I don't understand??? R00d. People also threw down about Allura and that's something I love and appreciate bc I'm DEFINITELY writing her as a one-note character (good job to the comments for respectfully defending your faves I love it).  
> On a totally different note I reread parts of chapter nine on my phone the other day and my writing sounds way worse on a small screen. Just like- idek man maybe I just hate my writing. Then again tho I'm not really editing the chapters so maybe it's fair that the writing sounds supes unpolished. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The next two weeks were not the best for Keith and Lance. The supermodel showed up to at least one dance lesson a week, but Keith knew the conversation they had together was stilted. He wasn’t good at social interaction, he’d be the first the admit it, but that meant that he had no idea how to talk to Lance about what Lotor had told him. Or even if he should. If he told Lance, would that make them seem really close? What if Lance got mad at him for it? What if Lance wanted nothing more to do with Keith? 

Keith figured that last option was actually the best outcome, all things considered. But he was selfish, and he didn’t want Lance to stop talking to him. But then he also wanted to force Lance to admit he was a self-righteous prick when it came to his fans. But even self-righteous pricks didn’t deserve abusive relationships. Would Lance want Keith to know about his history with the Galra though?

Keith wasn’t meant for introspection; he tended toward sudden, decisive action. In this situation, though, there was no clear course of action to take. Whatever he did would have a million shadowy consequences Keith couldn’t even _begin_ to predict. Since he didn’t know what to do, he did nothing at all, but the weight of Lotor’s words affected every interaction he had with the other model. Lance, who was back to suddenly being held at arm’s length, had a sinking feeling about what Keith’s behavior meant.

Lance had thought that he and Keith were past the conflict that had defined the beginning of their relationship. At first Keith had seemed to want nothing to do with him, but recently Lance had thought they were becoming friends, even if they bickered. Lance thought the squabbling had been a bro-bonding thing. But Keith was back to ignoring him, and Lance worried that Keith had hated him this whole time, only pretending to like Lance for the sake of his career. What if, now that Keith was with Altea Corp, he left Lance, just like so many other people had? It made sense. After all, what was there about Lance worth staying for?

~~~~

When Allura announced that their next photoshoot would be a two day event at a studio on the opposite side of L.A., Pidge immediately asked if they could have a sleepover in the studio.

“It’ll be like a lock in!” She said excitedly, “Anyone else remember those?”

“Oh, I remember,” Hunk said, “The first time I went to one I cried as soon as they shut the doors and my mom had to come get me. I wouldn’t do that now though. I enjoy sleepovers now. Let’s do it!”

Lance felt a sick flood of worry wash over him. He and Keith, stuck in close quarters continuously for two days. That was the last thing he wanted. Actually, second to last thing, because the last thing he wanted was to ask Keith if he hated him. Lance had a sick feeling he knew what the answer would be, and he didn’t think he could put on a professional face over that kind of emotional hurt. 

Keith felt just as worried, but for different reasons. Every time he looked at Lance, Keith remembered all the awful things Lotor said. He wanted desperately to tell Lance, but at the same time he had no idea if he should. Keith was so conflicted he could barely look Lance in the face, let alone model with him. Forty eight continuous hours behind locked doors would be a disaster.

“I would really rather not do a sleepover.” Keith said. “What are we, like six? No thanks. I want my own shower and my own memory foam mattress.”

Lance chuckled, hoping no one could see his discomfort, “I hate to agree with mullet man over there but I want my own bed. And my own full skin care routine. A day under those lights with all that cakey makeup, and then a night without my moisturizing anti-aging facemask? No thanks.”

Allura frowned in thought, tapping a finger against her lips, “While I understand the desire for your own bed, staying on location overnight makes this whole endeavor much more efficient. You’ll go to sleep earlier, wake up earlier, we can start shooting earlier, and I’ll get to monitor your every meal while you’re on set.” 

This last one was meant exclusively for Pidge, who had a habit of eating whatever she wanted. After the second time she had to call in sick because of bad sushi, Allura made it a special point to try to provide the paladins with all of their food during longer shoots.

Keith bit back a groan. Lance did not; he slumped in his seat like the epitome of a whiny preteen. Allura ignored him with the ease of someone long used to such outbursts.

“I’ll have to contact the studio of course, but they’re someone Coran uses often, so I imagine they won’t have a problem with it. I’ll email you all as soon as I have the details worked out.”

~~~

When the paladins showed up to Altea in the grey, pre-morning gloom, Hunk and Pidge looked like excited school kids on their first big field trip. Keith and Lance looked liked they hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep since Allura sent the cheerfully worded email confirming the sleepover.

The drive to the studio felt like a road trip instead of a work commute, with Pidge, Hunk and Lance singing their hearts out to carpool karaoke. Keith dozed in the back-most row, curled up with a pillow, an eye mask, and ear plugs. A few furtive glances shared between Hunk and Pidge showed that they suspected something was up, but they trusted Lance to share when he was ready. Besides, they shouldn’t be worrying about relationship drama when they had work to do.

The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon when they arrived at the shoot, morning traffic beginning to bustle around them. The paladins were whisked away for hair and makeup, while Allura sorted through racks filled with many, many more clothes than had been at the last photoshoot. These photos were going to be all over the U.S., Canada and the U.K., with different outfits for respective regional markets. They had to take individual and group shots of each outfit, meaning there was no time to waste. They had two photographers so that multiple shoots could go on at the same time, as well as two hair and makeup teams for quicker turn around time. 

The solo shots that morning went smoothly, but after lunch it was time for the paladins’ coordinated outfits. Keith and Lance, up until then, had managed to avoid each other all day. Keith was busy trying to not think about whether he should tell Lance about his encounter with Lotor. Lance was likewise avoiding Keith and his dismissive, hurtful attitude. But with the coordinated outfits, they were now forced back together.

When it was their turn to pose, it was like they’d never modelled before. Keith looked like a middle school boy at his first dance, unsure of where he could put his hands and whether he should look at his date. Lance was no better, looking like a dead fish being used as a stand in for a person. He looked like he could barely tolerate being this close to Keith, as if it physically pained him. 

Allura was understandably annoyed. She’d thought the two of them were past these attitude problems, but when she called Keith and Lance aside, they were both tight lipped and unwilling to talk about what was happening. Allura spent the next fifteen minutes on her tablet typing frantically before calling for a break.

She told the two they had until tomorrow morning to sort out what was happening between them, and in the meantime Pidge and Lance were shooting together and so were Hunk and Keith. One hair and wardrobe change later things were back underway, but now there was an air of tension over the whole set, everyone aware of the conflict happening between the models and afraid of Allura’s wrath if they didn’t fix it.

By the time Allura called an end to the day, the sun was slipping back down behind the horizon. Everyone on set had undergone an extremely grueling day and gave their goodbyes as quickly as possible, anxious to head home and unwind. Although, in the paladins’ case, they were anxious to grab every pillow and throw blanket in the studio and shove together the two on-set couches in order to make the necessary sleepover blanket nest. Pidge and Lance even ventured to the second story of the studio to grab body pillows and duvets from a set made to look like a bedroom.

Before she left, Allura ordered dinner for the paladins, choosing salads that were perfectly balanced nutritionally and as unappetizing as the plastic and cardboard containers they came in.

Lance was just about to pop the plastic lid off his salad when Pidge held up a hand to stop him. 

“Nuh-uh,” she said, “I went to all this trouble to get us a lock in, and then you and Keith have a fight the day before the shoot? We’re not eating salad. We deserve comfort food. And by ‘we’ I mean me and Hunk.” She held up her phone, “I’m ordering pizza. And lava cakes.”

Lance sat back, “You saw her lock those doors just like I did, Pidge. There’s no pizza coming through that door. Nada, zilch.”

Pidge’s grin grew even wider. “Oh sure, no pizza through the door. But she didn’t touch the windows. We’re on the ground floor, we don’t even have to bother with a fire escape. It’s almost too easy.”

Keith, who hadn’t even moved to take his salad, said, “I’m lactose intolerant, so I’ll take pizza with no cheese, or else a small child’s weight in buffalo wings.”

Hunk stood and immediately began checking the locks on the windows. The very first one he tried slid open like a dream. “I wouldn’t open it from the outside, Pidge, you don’t want to trigger the security systems, but you could definitely pick up pizza like this.”

“Great,” she said, already typing her order into her phone. “Put in your orders for what you want.”

“Hawaiian,” Hunk said, “Pineapple on pizza is a gift from the gods.”

“I think you mean from the depths of hell,” Pidge muttered, “But fine. Lance, what about you? I’m getting pepperoni.”

“I wanna split with Hunk, if that’s cool with you bud,” Lance said amiably.

“Sure thing,” Hunk said.

Pidge looked over at Keith, “If you want wings, they have a fourteen piece or a forty piece.”

Keith didn’t even hesitate when he replied, “Forty.”

Pidge muttered, “Fourteen it is.”

A few seconds later she set her phone aside and leaned back. “So, we have forty five minutes before our pizza gets here. That seems like enough time for you two to spill your guts. So. Start spilling.”

Lance and Keith sat in tense quiet for a moment before Lance burst out, “I don’t know what I did but Keith hates me again.”

Keith whipped his head around, “What?”

“You won’t talk to me, you glare at me _all the time_ , you go out of your way to not talk to me. You hate me again.”

Keith grimaced. He knew he wasn’t the best at social skills but… he’d made Lance think he hated him? When that was almost the exact opposite of the reason?

“That’s not it.” He said. “Not it at all.”

“No?” Lance said, voice rising, “Then what is it?”

“I- it’s not you. You didn’t do anything. It’s- it’s my own problem. And it does have- have to do with you, but. It’s private. Just you and me, or like… I- I don’t know if you’d want anyone else involved.”

Lance sat back, thinking for a few minutes. Finally he said, “I don’t know what could possibly be up with you that you don’t feel comfortable talking about it with Hunk and Pidge, but you feel comfortable talking about it with me, but if that’s what you wanna do, fine.” He paused for a moment, “Just so we’re clear, you don’t hate me?”

Keith shook his head vehemently. 

“And you don’t want to talk about it right now? Are you gonna wanna talk about it soon? If you don’t wanna talk about it you gotta stop letting it affect your modelling, you know.”

Keith nodded miserably, “I know, and I- I’ve really gotta talk about it with you, but. I’m just. Not good at talking. Anything social, really.”

Pidge snorted, “Yeah, we gathered that from the way you _literally_ stared Lance into being afraid you hated him. Also, you realize this whole conversation sounds like a lead up to the world’s worst love confession, right?”

Lance and Keith burst into twin blushes.

“That’s _not_ what this is,” Keith said, “I would _never_ , not for someone as showy and flamboyant as-”

“Yeah,” Lance cut in, “Me liking Keith is ridiculous, the only thing worse than his haircut is his attitude, not to mention how cocky he is, like, you give a guy one good photoshoot and suddenly-”

“Hey!” Keith yelled, “I am _not_ cocky!”

The two rapidly devolved into their normal squabbling while Hunk surreptitiously pulled a bag of chips from his backpack and offered them to Pidge, “Want to sit back and just watch for a little while?”

She grinned at him, “They’d be such cute parents.”

~~~

Allura’s hope that they might have gone to sleep earlier staying on set was one made in vain. By the time they’d all settled down enough to sleep, it was just as late as it would have been if they’d commuted across L.A. 

As Hunk’s soft snoring and Pidge’s occasional snuffle filled the studio, Lance lay awake wishing he could join them in dream land, but his thoughts were still on whatever Keith needed to talk to him about. 

Rolling onto his side so he could face what he _thought_ was Keith, Lance whispered, “Hey Keith, you still awake?”

A noncommittal grunt was Lance’s only answer.

“So like, is that a yes sound? Or a sleep sound?”

Keith groaned, and the sound of shifting blankets made Lance pretty sure Keith was now facing him. A passing car’s headlights through the window threw Keith’s face into sharp relief for a split moment, enough to leave Lance stunned all over again at his breathtaking good looks. So Keith was indeed awake and facing him, that was good to know.

“What did you want to talk about?” Lance whispered.

“Nothing,” Keith murmured, “Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t,” Lance pouted, “Your stupid sharing-but-not-sharing has me dying of curiosity.”

Keith frowned, Lance only catching the tail end of it in another car’s warm orange glow. The blankets shifted again as Keith rolled onto his back, arms and legs spread like a starfish. He let out a huge sigh, eyes trained on the ceiling, before tilting his head to look at Lance, the barest outline of him present in the grey of the studio. 

“You really wanna know?” Keith asked, “Even though it might really mess up your modelling? Even though it might make you hate me?”

The soft chuffing of the other paladins’ breath was all that could be heard before Lance breathed, “Yeah. I wanna know. Specially if it’s so bad it’s actually got you worried about my opinion of you. I thought you didn’t care about what some stuck up underwear model thought about you.”

Another car passed, the light passing over first Lance, then Keith, the lines of their faces softened by fatigue and fleeting in the brief seconds of light.

“I don’t.” Keith responded, voice quiet, “But I do care about- about Lance the person. The supermodel's a twat and I hate him, but the guy who can’t dance for shit and who let me sleep on his couch after like one week of knowing each other-” there was a long moment of silence as Keith gathered his thoughts. “I don’t want to hide this from him. But if I tell him, it’ll hurt him. But if I don’t tell him, that’ll hurt him, too.”

Lance giggled, his hand coming out to brush Keith’s fingertips, “Lance is a big boy, he can take it. He can tie his own shoes and everything.”

Another car passed, Keith’s soft smile shining in the dark. But it disappeared with the light, the haunted expression that had been on Keith’s face all day returning. He steadied himself, praying to god that he didn’t mess this up with his infamous lack of tact. 

“So, you remember the night of the pre-launch party?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Lance replied.

“Well, Lotor was there. I met him while I worked for the Galra, kind of a grade-A asshole.”

Lance was quiet.

“But he was staring at where we were, a lot, so I went over to tell him to stop being a creep. And he did his Lotor thing. The thing where he’s a total creepy dick, all slimy and charming at the same time?”

Lance gave a small hum. Keith took it as a cue that he was good to keep going.

“And well. He said some things. About how we were standing together. And how you used to be with him. He said- well, you don’t need to hear what he said. But just know that every word out of his mouth made me want to punch him and then wrap you up in a million blankets and bathe you in hot cocoa.”

Lance chuckled, “That’s a weird mental image, Keith.”

“Yeah well,” Keith replied, “It was a weird interaction. Anyway. I know you’d told me about wanting- _needing_ to get away from the Galra, and after Lotor revealed that you and him had been like. A thing. A lot of stuff clicked. But I didn’t know whether I should tell you. Because- no offense but- it’s pretty clear that Lotor fucked you up. Like kind of royally. And so me finding out about your relationship with him seemed like a really private thing I wasn’t sure you wanted me to know. But then also hiding it from you seemed like a really shitty move. But I wasn’t sure what was best, and so I just didn’t really do anything, but that really backfired and-”

“Keith,” Lance cut in softly, “You’re rambling. It’s okay. I’m not mad.” There was a moment of silence, “Yeah, Lotor is a pretty tender spot for me, and no, if it had been up to me, I probably wouldn’t have told you so soon. But it’s okay. You know now.”

Warm yellow light passed over Lance’s face again before he said, in a smaller voice, almost vulnerable, “Does this change the way you think of me?”

Keith thought long and hard before he answered, wanting to be honest but not hurtful. “Yes, but… not in a bad way, I don’t think. Or at least, not in a way that would upset you. It gives me a lot more… perspective? On you? In a way? Like I have more… understanding of why you are the way you are?”

“Compassion and empathy, Keith,” Lance sighed sleepily. “Those are the words you’re looking for. Or maybe pity.” 

His eyes opened to look at Keith, something hard in his stare despite his sleepiness, “It’s not pity, is it Keith?”

The other model snorted. “You’re too insufferable for me to ever pity you. I pity your awful sense of humor. But not you.”

Lance chuckled, “Fuck you.”

“You wish,” Keith mumbled back. Or at least, he thought he did, but he was so close to sleep he wasn’t quite sure.

~~~

The next morning Pidge and Hunk woke up before Lance and Keith, only to discover that the two self-proclaimed arch nemeses had managed to curl up together sometime in the night. Lance’s head was pillowed on Keith’s chest, Keith’s arm was wrapped around Lance’s waist, who also had an arm sprawled across Keith’s belly, and the two’s legs were completely entangled with each other and the blankets.

Pidge muffled her laughter with a pillow and snapped a multitude of photos to use for blackmail later. She also insisted that Hunk be the one to wake them, while she sat off to the side filming.

When Hunk tried to wake Lance with a gentle shake to the shoulder, Lance muttered incoherently and burrowed deeper into Keith’s chest. Pidge bit the back of her hand to cut off her cackling. When Hunk woke Keith in much the same manner, he did actually come to, but before he realized just who he was with, his arm tightened around Lance and he buried his nose in his hair. 

As soon as the smell of apples hit Keith, he remembered where he was- a studio, with Lance, Hunk and Pidge, and he’d gone to bed by himself but now had someone laying on top of him please don’t be Lance, please don’t be Lance, please don’t be Lance- it was Lance.

Keith gave a hoarse shout and sat up, scrambling away from the Latino model. Lance sat up smacking his lips and looking around going, “Wha-?”

“Stay in your own bed, you octopus!” Keith shrieked, holding the blankets up to his chest like a maiden who’d just discovered her honor infringed upon.

“Excuse me?” Lance said, voice rough with sleep, quickly realizing what had happened. “If you’ll notice, that’s _my_ blanket you’re using there, hot stuff.”

Keith opened his mouth to retort, but Allura’s voice cut in. Her entrance had gone completely unnoticed in all the chaos. 

“I’m so glad to see you two managed to resolve your differences. However, if hair and makeup finds a hickey anywhere on either of you I am _withholding_ your next paycheck.” 

She levelled a glare at Lance, “Are we clear?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So idk when my next update will be? It might be Thursday, might be Monday, but all of next weekend I'm incommunicado. Moving back home, getting my apartment and school job set up, starting college again yadda yadda. Wild to think that like, 8 weeks ago I was just starting this as a way to spend time with my sis when I was away from her, but now, 55k later, I'm coming back home to her and still writing this and am barely halfway thru our plotline. Wild. Anywho if it's like been over a week since I updated feel free to message me death threats as a friendly reminder to update.


	11. Too Good To Be True Lace Babydoll (In Light Blue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance try out a date...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHAHA GUESS WHO'S BACK? When I said my next update would be a couple days late, I thought that I wouldn't have wifi when I moved into my apartment, not that I would spill vodka all over my laptop the night before I flew out (not even drunk, just clumsy ^^;), lose my laptop at TSA and have my host mom pick it up and ship it to me, only to get it and discover that the charging port had cracked during shippingಥ‿ಥ. It kind of halfway works right now, I got it back last night and sat down to post this a day early only for me and my roommate to find out our hot water heater was leaking. Apparently the universe just doesn't want this chapter posted. ┐(°ヮ°)┌

Matt loved Shiro. And Shiro loved Matt. The two were college sweethearts, having been friends and roommates their first two years, lovers the last two, and by the time they graduated everyone thought of them as a matching set.

Shiro’s degree in math and sciences landed him a desk job that was both so technical and so boring he _always_ deflected when asked about it at social gatherings- always, no exceptions. But the money was unfairly good, and he got to work from home on a contract basis, bouncing from project to project, only coming into the office for the occasional obligatory board meeting.

Matt had managed to land a job at the same company, but where Shiro’s job was mind-numbingly dull to anyone without a head for numbers and engineering, Matt’s was full of nonstop excitement and high secrecy. He troubleshot all the most top secret projects, travelling to testing sites and inspecting prospective ventures, giving feedback on how to streamline them or overcome issues.

Matt had been gone for two and half months already, his latest project landing him somewhere in Canada to look over something vaguely space related. That’s all Shiro knew, because in addition to the sensitive nature of Matt’s work, he and Shiro avoided talking about work with each other. Matt and Shiro enjoyed geeking out with each other, but their workaholic tendencies had forced them to establish rules regarding talking shop early on in their relationship. After a few too many nights spent over blueprints instead of in bed together, Shiro and Matt had recognized the need for distinctions between their home life and their professional life.

Shiro was excited to see Matt again. His lover had flown back into L.A. late last night, and after a day of rest they were going out on a well-deserved date, hopefully to come back and spend the night fucking each other into the bed. Shiro smiled to himself as he got down a fresh set of sheets. He didn’t want to admit just how giddy Matt’s homecomings made him, but he had been thinking about tonight for the past week or so. Everything was going to be perfect, and Shiro couldn’t wait.

~~~

Keith and Lance’s rocky relationship seemed to be on smoother ground after Lance had opened up about Lotor. Keith had begun occasionally replying to Lance’s texts, and had now tentatively agreed to meet up with him for dinner, even though he still felt vaguely conflicted about what his relationship with the other model should be.

Keith was glad to no longer have the weight of Lance’s relationship history on his chest, but that weight had been replaced by the knowledge that Lance genuinely liked him, even though there was a large part of Keith himself that was still angry and disgusted with the other model.

He wasn’t sure he could make friends with Lance when there was such a large part of his personality that Keith couldn’t accept. The way he treated his fans soured every bonding moment they had together.

Keith met Lance at a park a few blocks from both of their apartments. There was an icecream truck there that Lance wanted to stop by before they headed to the restaurant, a classy, quiet place Lance assured him was amazing.

When he saw Lance, the model was dressed more formally than Keith had ever seen from him in real life. He was wearing dark wash jeans and a blue button down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal gorgeous forearms. Keith thought it was unfair that Lance looked good no matter what he wore- Keith didn’t even think forearms could be gorgeous, but trust Lance to make it so.

Lance started waving excitedly and yelling his name when he caught sight of Keith. 

As he came to a stop before Lance, Keith said, “You know I can hear you, right? There’s no need to shout.”

“Maybe I’m just so excited I can’t hold it in,” Lance smirked.

“Is that your way of telling me you’re nauseated and need to skip dinner? Because if so I can head back home and-”

“No, no,” Lance cut in, “I _finally_ got you to hang out with me again, I’m not passing up this chance.”

Keith winced internally at the subtle reference to the intentional distance he’d been leaving between them, but before he could say anything a girl standing off to the side of them spoke up hesitantly, “Excuse me, but are you Lance McClain?”

Kaith could almost see Lance’s charming charisma spike all the way up. He turned to the girl, who was standing with a friend, both red-faced and fidgeting, “Why I am, are you two fans?”

They nodded desperately, one squeaking out that they loved his work and thought he was so charming and beautiful. Keith winced, remembering himself say the same exact words. But instead of laying into them like he’d done to Keith, or even patiently explaining that he didn’t appreciate those kinds of comments being made about his work, Lance thanked them emphatically for their support and their kind words before telling them that he was nothing without his fans and would never have made it to where he was without their support. 

When he asked if they wanted any autographs, Keith felt the world go fuzzy, reasons for Lance’s behavior racing through his head. They were in a public place, maybe that’s why Lance didn’t say anything negative to them. Maybe Lance just wanted up hurry up and get ice cream and didn’t feel like reeducating them but if that was the case, he was being very leisurely about the encounter.

Maybe he didn’t want to say anything his feelings for fans in front of Keith? But that made no sense. Why would Lance care what Keith thought of how he treated his fans. Lance was very clearly fine with his callous attitude if the brazen way he’d acted at the convenience store was anything to go by.

The girls left, and Lance turned back to Keith with a satisfied sigh, oblivious to the sudden mood change that had overcome Keith.

“Sorry about that,” he said, “But they were nice, and I never say no to my fans.”

“Heh,” Keith said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “I bet you wish you could though.”

Lance looked confused. “What do you mean? Wish I could say no to my fans?” He cocked his head to the side with a hesitant smile.

The girls were out of earshot, disappearing along the park’s path.

Keith snorted, “You don’t expect me to believe you treat all your fans like that?”

Lance nodded, “Well I mean, yeah, I wouldn't be where I am without my fans.”

Keith shook his head, incredulous, unable to entirely stop the words welling up inside him, “Why are you lying about this?”

Lance was frustrated by now, not understanding what was happening but knowing something had upset Keith. “I’m not lying about anything, and I don’t know why you think I am.”

From somewhere deeper within the park there was a child’s shriek of laughter, and the warmth of the setting sun lit everything in a gold glow.

Keith huffed a sharp breath out of his nose, attempting to calm himself and think of a way to salvage the situation. This wasn’t how he wanted to reveal himself. He was barely on the same level as Lance, revealing the truth now wouldn’t prove that Keith was in any way superior to Lance. But the next words out of Lance’s mouth had Keith forgetting all his inhibitions.

“I swear to god, why are you like this,” he said tiredly, “We take one step forward, and two steps back. I just don’t know what’s _up_ with you.”

A red balloon took to the sky, let loose from a child's hand.

“What’s _up_ with me?” Keith said, hands at his sides clenching into fists, “Why I’m _like_ this? Well _maybe_ , I’m ‘like this’ because you’re an insufferable asshole who thinks he’s better than everyone else, especially his fans, but has an ego large enough to straight up lie about it to literally everyone around him!”

“ _Excuse me_?” Lance hissed, eyes going cold, “What did you just say? What the _fuck_ do you think I’m lying about?”

“Oh please,” Keith said, “I know all about how you hate your fans. You think they all use you for their dirty fantasies, and that how they talk to you out of nowhere is creepy. All of us ‘creepy fanboys’ make you hate your job!”

Lance was confused up until the moment Keith said creepy fanboy. Then a look of dawning horror came over his face. Keith hoped Lance was remembering his words. He knew those were all _exactly_ the things Lance had said to him, because they were what Keith heard whispered in his ear as he fell asleep every night, every time he caught himself thinking Lance was beautiful, or instinctively reaching for a magazine spread with Lance in it.

The rush of water from the fountains in the park square suddenly cut off, their display done for the day and leaving water-logged flagstones in their wake.

“That was _you_?” Lance whispered, hands coming up to cover his face. “Oh my god- I- wait.” He said slowly, the horror and shock melting back into confusion, this time with anger added to the mix. “You agreed to that photo shoot knowing who I was and what I said to you. Why the fuck didn’t you say anything? Did you just send this whole _fucking_ time thinking I hated you?”

Keith laughed, the sound jagged and breaking over his teeth, “And how the fuck do I ask you to reveal your true feelings in a room full of people making money off your good will? I know you hate me, you don’t need to tell me twice.”

A bird exploded from the stand of bushes beside the path they were on, wings flapping madly as it struggled to get off the ground.

“I don’t hate you,” Lance ran a hand through his hair, “I was fucking taking you out on a date for god’s sake, but now you’re telling me you’ve lied to me this whole time?” His voice went thin at the end, an echo of how he’d sounded the night he’d talked to Keith about Lotor.

Keith was too engulfed by his own hurt to recognize his feelings mirrored in Lance. He’d begun spilling his heart, and he wouldn’t stop until it was all out. When Keith fought, he went in for the kill, and swept up in the heat of his feelings he didn’t see that across from him Lance was dying. 

“Oh you don’t hate the me who was a hot underwear model and danced salsa, but your feelings for this creepy fanboy have always been abundantly clear to me. You sure you wanna date someone who uses you in their dirty fantasies?” Keith’s smile was meant to be triumphant, but it felt like a landslide, like all his feelings had slipped to his mouth and stayed there.

Lance, to his horror, felt tears welling up in his eyes. Of course Keith didn’t like him back. Of course Keith was the corner store boy. Of course Lance had been a dick to one of the first people he’d genuinely been interested in since Lotor. Oh god, Keith hated him, _hated_ him, and Lance had talked with him about Lotor. He’d told Keith- sweet, wonderful, prickly Keith whose older brother brought him lunches and who never minded Lance stepping on his toes at dance practice, no matter how many times it happened, beautiful, talented Keith- that he was disgusting. Creepy. Lance felt the first tear, hot and wet, slip down his cheek, and he turned and made for the exit of the park, walking as quickly as he could without losing what was left of his dignity. 

~~~

On his way home, Lance stopped at the same corner store that had started it all and bought everything that Allura didn’t allow him to have. That _Lance_ didn’t allow _himself_ to have. Pop Tarts, Ben and Jerry’s, Fritos chili cheese corn chips- God they were disgusting but Lance was disgusting too, so hey it was all good. He grabbed every pack of Hostess Sno Balls the store had, and when Lance checked out the cashier had to use two plastic bags. 

When Lance made it home, he managed to make it to the couch before he had too many tears in his eyes to see where he was going. He curled up on the couch, realizing with a new wave of hurt that he was where Keith had slept, and pulled a throw pillow to himself, muffling his body-wracking sobs in the stiff linen.

~~~~

As Keith watched Lance’s retreating figure, he felt, to his horror, tears stinging at his eyes. His stomach had dropped to his feet when Lance had looked at him with such naked hurt. Keith hadn’t meant for it to go like that. 

This had been what Keith was afraid of. Lance not seeing the error of his ways, but instead just being hurt by all the impulsively cruel words Keith had thrown at him. He hadn’t wanted to hurt Lance. Not personally. Not like this. God, Keith was such a failure. He’d taken it too far, caught up in his feelings just like he always was, because he was impulsive and brash and bad at loving and caring for people. He’d never gotten it right before, why should this time be any different?

Keith put his head down and made straight for the park exit that put him out towards Shiro’s place. He shot a text to let his brother know he was coming, then silenced his phone before putting it in his pocket. He really didn’t want to deal with anyone right now. He just wanted Shiro’s chamomile tea and his brother’s soothing hand in his hair.

~~~

Shiro had known that Keith was supposed to get dinner with Lance tonight, so when his brother texted him thirty minutes after he and Lance were supposed to meet up to announce that he was coming over, Shiro knew that he and Matt were going to have to put date night on hold.

He sent a text to Matt immediately, and got an understanding reply. He knew that he was so, so fucking lucky to have a partner like Matt. They both took their sibling relationships very seriously, and Matt would’ve absolutely done the same thing if Pidge had a personal emergency like Shiro suspected Keith was having now.

His every suspicion was confirmed when Keith showed up at his door, chest heaving, eyes red-rimmed and glossy. Shiro didn’t even say anything, just moved aside and let Keith come in. 

His brother collapsed on the couch, pulling the closest throw blanket around himself. Shiro put the kettle on and then sat down beside him, tangling a hand in Keith’s hair when his little brother leaned up against him.

“What happened?” Shiro asked gently.

“I told him,” Keith said, voice watery and thin, “I told him everything.” He leaned forward, burying his face in Shiro’s chest. “I got him. I won. This should feel like victory.” His voice hitched on a sob, “So why does it feel like defeat?”

From the kitchen, the kettle whistled, but Shiro let it shriek.

~~~~

When he’d gotten the text from Shiro that Keith and Lance’s dinner had not gone well and that Keith was spending the night at Shiro’s place, Matt immediately texted his sibling to see how Lance was doing.

When Pidge responded she had no idea anything had gone wrong because she hadn’t heard from Lance in over an hour, Matt urged her to call. When Lance didn’t pick up, Pidge announced she was getting Hunk and going to see Lance herself.

When they got to the apartment, the door wasn’t locked. Pidge and Hunk let themselves in, only to see that the curtains had been drawn across the sliding doors and the lights hadn’t been turned on, keeping the apartment dark. It was quiet except for the muffled sound of Lance’s crying. Pidge marched forward, anger at Keith for doing this to her friend lending her strength in the face of Lance’s hurt. Hunk followed her, heart breaking for Lance. 

He scooped up his friend and carried Lance into the bedroom, setting him down on his bed and swaddling Lance in blankets. Pidge grabbed the two bags of junk food that were sitting out on the coffee table and brought them to the kitchen, leaving the chips on the counter and putting the ice cream in the freezer. She grabbed a glass of ice water and two ibuprofen to bring to Lance, knowing he’d probably have a headache and be dehydrated.

They got Lance to swallow the pills and blow his nose. There was no point in cleaning his face because he was still leaking tears. Pidge curled up beside him, running a hand through Lance’s hair, while Hunk smoothed his hand up and down Lance’s back.

“You wanna tell us why we’re beating that bastard up?” Pidge asked, her protectiveness of Lance shining through in her voice.

Lance gave a laugh, thick and broken but genuine. “I’m an idiot, Pidge. I sure can pick ‘em. I have the worst taste in boys.”

Pidge growled. “What did he do?”

Hunk couldn’t help the way his hands pulled Lance in closer, as if wanting to shield him from all the bad things in the world. 

“He’s been lying to me this whole time.” Lance’s voice was small.

“What do you mean?” Hunk’s voice was now just as dark and dangerous as Pidge’s. They’d accepted Keith, brought him into their circle, thought him awkward but not ill-intentioned. If it turned out that he’d hurt Lance like their friend had already been hurt once before, Hunk would never forgive him. Never forgive himself, for not being more careful of Lance.

“Remember corner store boy?” Lance asked.

“Yeah,” Pidge said, confused at the non-sequitur. 

“Keith has been corner store boy this whole time.” Lance’s voice broke at the end of his sentence.

“You’re joking,” Pidge said. “But why is that such a bad thing? Like, you were rude to corner store boy, I guess that that’s why Keith had a problem with you, but isn’t that good? Your two crushes are the same person?”

“Not if it means both crushes hate me for invalidating them as a person,” Lance reached for another tissue.

“What do you mean ‘invalidating them as a person’?” Hunk asked slowly.

“Turns out creepy fanboy was the least of what I said to Keith,” Lance replied. “I told him that- that-” His voice broke again, and the rest of his sentence came through heaving gasps for air. “That people like him made me hate my job,fans like him that use me for- for their sexual fantasies.” 

Lance took a moment, calming himself before he continued, “That’s a terrible thing to say to someone, and I can completely understand now why he had such a problem with me, but I think he thinks that’s how I really feel.”

“What?” Pidge gasped.

Lance nodded, “The way he was talking, he made it clear that he took everything I said that night to heart and that this whole time he’s thought of me as some selfish jerk who hates his fans and thinks they’re all disgusting.” 

He continued, voice wet but composed, “I have to explain the truth to him, but I’ll never get the chance to because he’s hated me this whole time.” He paused to blow his nose and then continued, “He’s only talked to me because of work, and he’s so sweet and nice and I can’t believe I said those things to him and he _lied_ to me this whole time.” 

Now Lance was angry, punching the bed and seething, “What kind of dickwad lies to someone’s face for four plus weeks? Like, I get that you think I hate you, but clearly I don’t fucking remember you!” 

He gasped, looking up at Hunk, “The first time we met, he asked if I knew who he was. He _knew_ , he KNEW I didn’t know, and he fucking led me along anyway. And like an _idiot_ I decided I liked him. God, I’m _such_ an _idiot_. Why do I fucking do this?”

He tilted his head to look at Pidge with puffy red eyes, “Why do I always want to fuck the piece-of-shit douche bags that just want to take me for a joy ride?”

Pidge shook her head, “I don’t know, Lance. I don’t know.”

~~~

“I don’t think I did the right thing,” Keith said quietly. He held a cup of steaming chamomile in his hands and was curled up at the corner of the couch, Shiro sitting at the other end.

“I mean, I definitely think he needed the wake up call. And,” he looked up fiercely at Shiro, “I definitely still want to prove to him that fanboys aren’t nameless internet creepers, they can be sexy and successful, too… But.” Here Keith curled in on himself, the weight of his shame making him small. “I let my temper get the best of me. Again. I lashed out, and once the words started coming they just didn’t stop and Shiro,” he looked up at his brother, lower lip quivering, “I said some terrible things. I really hurt him, Shiro. He wanted to be my friend, tonight was supposed to be a _date_ , Lance fucking McClain wanted to go on a date with me, and I messed it up. Because I always mess these things up. Because I’m a fucking failure who doesn’t know how to care for people.”

Shiro reached out and rubbed Keith’s ankle, “You know that’s not true, Keith.”

Keith ignored him, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling, “I messed up Shiro. And I don’t know how to fix it this time. I want to apologize. But I don’t know if he’ll ever want to see me again.”

And, not for the first time, Keith regretted ever going to that stupid corner store in the first place.

~~~

As Lance calmed down, Hunk and Pidge got him into the shower, where he cried again because Keith had been so mean to him. They got him out, put him in a face mask and his fuzziest jammies, and Lance cried again because he’d been so mean to Keith. 

After a reapplication of the face mask to fix all the tear tracks, the three settled down on Lance’s couch to watch bad television and eat the snacks Lance had bought in his fit of despair. After several episodes of _Parks and Recreation_ , Pidge turned to Lance, who had taken off his face mask and was getting Hunk to hand feed him Ben and Jerry’s.

“So what do you wanna do?” She asked, “About the whole Keith situation, I mean. He’s still under contract with Altea to be a part of Voltron. You can’t exactly cut him out of your life, as much as that would make me happy.”

Lance sighed. “I guess we’ll have to talk. I know I hurt his feelings really badly, I think I should probably apologize for that, but I also want an apology from him for his shitty behavior when he told me, and for lying to me for a month in the first place.”

“Y’know,” Hunk said, voice contemplative, “It doesn’t make sense to me, the way Keith switched modelling agencies to be at Altea. You’d think, if he hated Lance, he’d want nothing to do with him. But like, getting a job at the same place as the guy you supposedly hate? Sounds like what someone would do if they were in love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I can fix this. They'll be okay.  
> So let's tentatively plan for the next chapter to be up Saturday, but at this point god only knows. I hate to say that on a cliffhanger (shout out to that one commenter who told me they hated cliffhangers this is so much worse that I was imagining when I told you I had one planned) but I wanted to get an update out sooner rather than later. You all have waited too long already. il||li(つд-｡)il||li  
> ALSO big shoutout to my sister for encouraging my writing style in the park scene, bc I was really unsure of it, I was just doing something I do in poetry a lot, but my sister loved it and really helped polish it up, so all the snapshots in the park that contrast and accentuate their conflict are there bc she approved them (ʃƪ ˘ ³˘)♥


	12. Kiss It Better Balconette Cup Lacy Hearts Bra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance kiss it all better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEEYYY I MANAGED TO UPDATE ON TIME! BARELY! YEET FOR PHONE REMINDERS! My laptop is still broke but it's workable, so we're calling it good until Thanksgiving break. 
> 
> my multishipping whore ass: *is fully prepared to start this chapter with shatt smut*  
> my sister: its a klance fic u cant write side pairing action before main pairing action wtf   
> me: BUT ITS BEEN TWELVE CHAPTERS AND WE HAVEN'T EVEN GOTTEN A MAKE OUT SCENE I'M DYING. LANCE PRANCES AROUND IN UNDERWEAR FOR GODS SAKE I'M.DYING.HERE.   
> her: tbh I was expecting like one or two smut scenes so like. u can calm down?  
> me: that's only two pairs of panties Keith gets to rip off Lance. Why do you wound me this way?

Lance ended up calling first. Pidge didn’t think he should be the one to extend an olive branch (she wanted Keith to come back crawling in supplication) but Lance knew better. He knew that Keith had been hurt by things Lance had said too, even if he’d blown them vastly out of proportion and thrown them back at Lance in the most hurtful way.

While Pidge did allow him to call Keith, she did not let him do it alone. She and Hunk sat on either side of Lance as he made the call, his phone in his lap on speaker and Pidge quiet by way of a sacred vow of silence.

When Keith saw his phone light up with Lance’s number, he was on a walk with Shiro. Keith almost hit the ‘recline call’ button involuntarily so he wouldn’t have to face what he’d done. Thankfully, Shiro saw the stricken look on Keith’s face and took the phone from him, accepting the call and putting Lance on speaker.

On the other end, Lance’s face when white when the call connected. He had no idea what to say to Keith now that the moment was actually here. Hunk gestured at Lance fervently, hands making an ambiguous ‘get on with it’ motion.

“Hello?” Keith said, confused at the long stretch of silence.

“Ah!” Lance exclaimed, caught by surprise at Keith’s voice. 

“Lance?” Keith asked.

“Yeah, uh… hey.” Lance sounded as awkward as he felt. He had no idea how a conversation like this was supposed to go, but this didn’t seem like the time for small talk. Better to just get the awkwardness out of the way. Do it quickly, like ripping off a band-aid.

“So, I’m sorry about uh… everything.” Lance said by way of leading into the conversation. Pidge huffed, unimpressed, while Hunk smacked a hand to his forehead in frustration. Lance shot them a glare, he was doing the best he could, okay? Would Hunk like to handle this conversation for him?

On the other end of the line, Keith gave a sigh of relief, the tension seeping out of his frame. 

Shiro gave him a supportive smile as Keith replied, “Yeah… I’m sorry, too. I know you might not believe me when I say this, but that was not how I imagined telling you about our first meeting. And it was shity of me to hide it from you in the first place. You’re totally right, I did know the whole time, and I could’ve said something the moment I knew you didn’t remember but I didn’t. And I should have. And not in the way I did.”

“Yeah,” Lance replied, feeling warmth bubble up in his chest at Keith’s bumbling earnestness, “You were kind of a dick about- everything.” 

Pidge looked like she wanted to add a few much more explicit insults to Lance’s description of Keith’s behavior, but Hunk pointed a stubborn finger to remind her of her vow and she kept quiet.

Lance continued, “But I was a dick, too. The first time we met, I mean. And I believe you, about what you said, but don’t- don’t feel like that means you have to believe me in return. Just know that I want to give- not an excuse, but… context. For my behavior. I’d had an awful night, and just come away from a party full of people saying stuff to me just like what I said to you.”

It was embarrassing, having to rationalize his behavior this way. Lance had tried his best to forget that he’d ever done something so shameful, but he owed Keith honesty. “I was there that night buying junk food and wanting to forget, and I took all my anger and hurt out on you. And you didn’t deserve that.”

Keith cut in, “Lance, it’s okay. I was honestly confused when I met you in person because- yeah, you’re annoying, a horrible flirt and kind of full of yourself but. Not mean like you were that night. So I kind of knew that wasn’t-” Keith cut himself off. He’d almost said ‘who you really are,’ but that sounded a little too sappy, even for this already saptastic conversation. He said instead, “what you’re really like. I was just- I don’t- I don’t let things go easily.” 

Off to the side Shiro snorted, and Keith _knew_ his brother was thinking that was an extreme understatement, but Keith only glared at him.

The air cleared between them, Keith and Lance both felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off their chests. Lance laughed first, feeling giddy with happiness at having saved this fledgling relationship with Keith. Keith found himself responding in kind. Shiro stared at Keith like he was crazy, and from their spots beside Lance, Hunk and Pidge did the same thing. 

Lance didn’t care, though. Keith’s laugh was nice. Really nice. It brought the warm feeling in his chest back twofold. 

~~~

So, a full day after it was supposed to happen, Shiro and Matt found themselves having a date night. It had been nice- they’d gone to dinner at the Italian place they both liked, sharing a bottle of wine and a slice of cheesecake for dessert, and were wandering the streets in the early evening, catching up on each other’s lives and enjoying each other’s company. 

Shiro told Matt the entire Keith/Lance saga, with Matt expressing his disbelief at the sheer outlandishness of it all no less than twenty three times. Shiro could do nothing but wholeheartedly agree with him- Keith’s everyday had certainly taken a turn for the larger than life.

“But, let me get this straight,” Matt said with a smirk, “You went in to drop off Keith’s _lunch_ \- which is a shit move by the way and I can’t believe you still do it- and their boss lady chatted you up so forcefully you actually _retreated_? Takashi Shirogane, the man I know and love, turning tail in the face of adversity?”

Shiro laughed, put upon, “You don’t understand, if I had been wearing a skirt, she would’ve had her hand up it. If I had been closer to her height, she would’ve licked my ear- or something equally terrifying and forward.”

Matt grinned toothily, “But still, you normally manage to repel those girls just as easily as the hungry housewives.”

Shiro shook his head, swinging his and Matt’s intertwined hands between them in a jaunty arc. “Not this one. She didn’t even flinch when I said I had a partner.”

“Maybe she didn’t believe you,” Matt said, voice sinking to a sensuous purr. “Maybe she needs some proof of ownership.”

Shiro laughed despite himself, bending down to hide his face in Matt’s neck, “That was awful, Matthew.”

Matt groaned, “C’mon Shiro, I’m trying to be sexy for you- we don’t see each other for like, _ten years_ and _this_ is what I come back to?” He gasped in mock-horror, “Have I lost my touch?”

Shiro leered back at his boyfriend, “I don’t know-I think we’ll have to find out.”

Matt cackled, “Ok, that was _just_ as bad.”

Shiro leaned back, pouting, “I thought we were trying to say sexy things.”

Matt wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Why don’t we go back to your place and put our mouths to better use?”

All the way back to Shiro’s apartment, their attempts at dirty talk got worse and worse, but neither of them minded, not in the least.

~~~

Over a lazy breakfast of coffee and cereal the next morning, Matt told Shiro, “You know, I think you should give that Allura woman a call. If you want to. I know she was drooling all over you, but if modelling or becoming a part of this Voltron line like Keith is something you want to do, you shouldn’t let worries about our relationship get in your way.” He reached out and ran his hand over Shiro’s knuckles, eyes lingering on the hickies down his partner’s neck. “I know you’re faithful. I know you’ll decline her interest. _And_ ,” Matt added with a waggle of his eyebrows, “I know that I can march in to drop off your lunch and let her know who you belong to if need be.”

Shiro laughed, “I thought we were done with the bad dirty talk and the alpha male posturing.” 

There was a quiet moment of fondness before Shiro continued, “Thank you, Matt. I think it would be fun. Keith certainly enjoys it.” He took a contemplative sip of his coffee. “I’ll ask her if she’d be willing to tell me some more details. I need more information before I make a decision.”

Matt leaned back in his chair, “Whatever you want, babe.”

When Matt called Pidge later that afternoon, he told her all about Shiro getting a meeting with Allura to talk about possible modelling opportunities.

“Are you kidding?” Pidge cackled, “You’re going to let him meet with Allura alone? To ask about working with her? Did he not tell you that Allura wants to bend him over her desk and fuck him right through that expensive black walnut? The girl is _thirsty_.”

“I know that,” Matt said, grinning at Pidge’s imaginative language. “But I know Shiro, and Shiro would never let anything like that happen. Unless I should be concerned about Allura not respecting consent?”

“No, no, you don’t have to worry about anything like that,” Pidge replied, “But she will verbally flirt with him pretty shamelessly. And give him lots of lingering touches and hard stares.”

“I can deal with that,” Matt said. “That's what everyone does when in Shiro’s presence. The man’s got the body of a G.I. Joe and the approachability of a Barbie doll- I’m pretty used to everyone that comes in contact with Shiro flirting at him with all the subtlety of a brick.”

Pidge hummed, “Well, the good news is this. I can tell you right now he’ll probably be put on the Voltron project with me and Keith. Allura’s still looking for someone to cover the gym rat and frat boy demographic and Shiro is just the ticket for that.”

“Shiro? A frat boy? What organization would he join- the mathletes?” Matt laughed, trying to picture the incongruous mash up of his boyfriend and fraternity culture. He found that he couldn’t.

~~~

Allura was all too happy to see Shiro, and true to Pidge’s word the half hour long meeting was filled with many, many arm touches and lots of lingering stares. Despite her keen interest, Allura managed to be as efficient as ever, showing Shiro what he could expect in a potential contract, what sort of jobs he would be suitable for, and how much say he’d have in his workload if he still wanted to keep his day job- which Shiro did. He liked staring at schematics of wings and figuring out optimal lift and drag ratios, thank you very much.

But… it would be fun to model. Or at least try it. Shiro wasn’t look for a career change by any means but he wouldn’t deny that he was curious.

His feet led him back to Allura’s office. He could see her typing away on her computer through the frosted glass of her office door. She caught sight of him and gestured to come inside. 

Shiro entered sheepishly, arm straining the fabric of his t-shirt as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Allura, is there anyway we could make it so that I only model for _your_ project? For Voltron? And not have to accept any jobs from outside parties?”

She rose from her chair gracefully and gave Shiro a smile, “I’m quite sure we could come to an arrangement.”

Shiro was mildly shocked at the ease with which Allura agreed to his terms for a modelling contract. It was short-term, only six months, and exclusive. Shiro wouldn’t model for anyone but Voltron and Allura wouldn’t accept any offers for him from any other companies or projects.

Shiro told his brother almost as soon as he got out of the meeting. Keith was happy for Shiro, in his own, reserved way, quietly telling him he hoped Shiro liked the work as much as Keith himself did, and asking if he should tell Lance that Shiro was officially one of the paladins. 

When Lance heard the news, he immediately announced they were throwing Shiro a welcome party. His initial idea was a little grand, involving a champagne tower, live music and an endless build-your-own-taco bar, all of which the rest of the group vehemently protested. Hunk counter-offered with a paladin movie night, which Lance agreed to on the condition that he be the one to host it. A few days later, the five paladins found themselves in Lance’s apartment arguing over which movie they were going to watch.

“Lance, your movie collection sucks.” Pidge complained from her seat before Lance’s entertainment center. “It’s literally just _The Proposal_ and every _Star Wars_ film except the third one. What the fuck?”

“The third is awful, there’s no point in having it, and The Proposal is my favorite romcom of all time. I need access to it twenty-four seven.” Lance shrugged like it made perfect sense. “I only have DVD copies of the movies I can’t live without.”

“I think that makes a lot of sense,” Keith said contemplatively, on the floor wedged between the coffee table and the sofa, “That means I only need hard copies of _Titan A.E., Treasure Planet_ and _Serenity_.”

“Those are all just the same plot and setting with slightly different worldbuilding.” Lance said incredulously. “That’s the same movie three different ways!”

“Well, that just means the story’s that good.” Keith groused, crossing his arms and slumping further against the sofa.

“Well,” said Pidge, getting up off the floor and moving to sit on the sofa, “We’re going to have to find something on Netflix, because there’s no way in hell I’m watching Star Wars with you and I would rather be waterboarded then forced to watch a romantic comedy.”

“I don’t know,” said Shiro from where he was wedged into the corner of Lance’s L-shaped couch for maximum comfiness. It made him look like a NFL quarterback trying to drive a toy car. “I’d kind of like to watch _The Proposal_. I enjoy rom coms.”

Pidge snorted as she pulled up Netflix, “Of course you do, but the adults want to watch something with actual entertainment value.”

“Pidge,” Shiro’s voice had a note of warning in it that spoke of his knowledge of her position as a younger sibling. “Don’t sass me. I’ll tell Matthew.”

She gave him a look like he’d just told her to suck on a lemon.

“I don’t think you can act like an older brother or a boyfriend in this scenario,” Keith pointed out. “You’re our co-worker. Allura is the only higher power you can appeal to.”

Lance was spread out on the forward facing part of the L as opposed to the back, a mountain of pillows providing a back rest and keeping Lance from just leaning against Shiro. When he caught sight of Pidge’s face, he started cackling, and Keith’s retort had him wheezing.

As Pidge scrolled through new arrivals, calling out the names of any that sounded decent so Hunk in the kitchen could hear her too, it became increasingly clear that no one’s taste in movies matched up.

“There’s a horror movie on here about a white family that buys a house filled with malicious spirits!” Pidge yelled to the room at large. 

“I refuse to watch anything with jump scares!” Hunk called back.

“Okay, how about an action film about a motley crew of Americans fighting off an invasion?”

“Ew,” said Lance, “Long fight scenes lose my interest, and you know that movie is going to be one long battle scene.”

“How about that one?” Shiro said, pointing at one with two white people almost kissing for the cover photo.

“That’s the latest Nicholas Sparks movie,” Pidge said. “We’re not watching that.”

“What’s the one at the far end?” Keith asked.

“That’s an Italian comedy special.” Pidge gave Keith a look. “Do you even _know_ how Netflix works?”

Keith’s face was entirely blank and utterly serious as he nodded his head yes. Pidge didn’t know if that was just extremely dry sarcasm being returned right back to her or if Keith really hadn’t picked up on Pidge’s dig. Sometimes she really couldn’t just tell.

Hunk brought everyone drinks, set out bowls of chips, candy, popcorn and his special homemade, double-fudge brownies, and still they hadn’t found anything. Eventually, Pidge threw her hands up in disgust. 

“I give up!” She announced. “We should have chosen something before hand, at this rate it’ll take all night to find something.”

“Well,” Hunk said a bit despairingly, “Anybody have any ideas?” 

“I don’t see any problem with my choice.” Keith said wonderingly.

There was a long moment of silence in which everybody studiously avoided answering Keith before Lance suddenly sprang up and made a mad dash for the bedroom, yelling, “I know _just_ what we’re going to watch tonight!”

~~~

“I’ve never kissed anyone without a six pack.” This tagline came from a girl with a thick British accent and so much fake tan she looked almost tangerine.

“I’m fit, I’m flirty, and I’ve got double F’s.” The follow-up intro came from a girl with an alarming shade of purple hair who had obviously benefited from multiple cosmetic alterations.

As the intro to Geordie Shore played on Lance’s huge TV courtesy of his laptop, everyone besides him sat stunned into silence by the ridiculousness of what was playing in front of them.

“What…” Shiro started.

“Did she just…?” Pidge said faintly.

Lance laughed at the others’ shock and amazement at the over-the-top sex and drama playing out on the obviously scripted show before them. As the members of the show introduced themselves one-by-one, the apartment rang with laughter at the caricatured party-culture people before them.

The plot was easy to pick up. Nine people lived together in one house for several weeks, being left to their devices for the day before getting into outlandish shenanigans every night when they went clubbing. The slang, however, was not so easily understood. Everyone on the show spoke with such thick Geordie accents and used so much British-specific slang that Shiro lamented the lack of subtitles.

Hunk asked, at one point, if the show was the British version of Jersey Shore. Lance wholeheartedly launched into an explanation about how yes it was, but Geordie Shore was better because it was raunchier and crazier and way less censored. Charlotte was his favorite, and she peed when she got like black-out drunk but she was honestly so funny and- Pidge growled for him not to interrupt.

Lance honestly hadn’t expected the others to get invested in the raunchy reality show, instead hoping it would capture their interest long enough to delay a fight about what movie they were going to watch. But after Holly, one of the girls in the house, got so drunk she started a fight with a complete stranger and then tried to take her clothes off in the car on the way home, Pidge announced that she was in love and they weren't watching anything else all night long. 

Two episodes later, everyone had picked a favorite and was engrossed in the onscreen relationships. 

Shiro _detested_ Scotty T., the most forward of all the men on the show. After he shagged a girl on a pool chair Shiro announced Scotty was everything about men that he hated. When Marnie and Chloe got topless and wet each other down with a garden hose outside a goat cottage in rural Greece, Pidge announced she’d never seen something that encapsulated humanity so perfectly.

After the third time Chloe vomited from over-drinking and several episodes of witnessing the squalor the crew lived in, Hunk wondered aloud if any of them came away with health problems. He knew for a fact the milk Charlotte was drinking had been sitting on the counter since Aaron had punched Gary at lunch, which meant it _had_ to be fully room temperature. That wasn’t safe. Keith wanted to know just how Lance had stumbled upon this show.

They all agreed Chloe needed to stop mooning over Scotty, and Hunk said he thought she’d be cute with Marnie. Keith protested that Chloe and Charlotte had made out when drunk one too many times to be just friends, but Pidge pointed out that Charlotte had a boyfriend and Charlotte was meant to be with Holly anyway. Shiro wanted to know what it was like trying to figure out insurance policies for a show that revolved around drinking and fighting.

Keith had migrated to the floor, spread out on his stomach with his head towards the TV. Above him, on the couch, Lance looked much the same, a pillow wedged under his chest to keep him comfortable. Even as Lance tried to focus on the show and on his friends’ reactions, his eyes kept straying to Keith. Hunk’s words kept tickling the back of his mind. He was so intensely curious as to why Keith had decided to work in close quarters with Lance. It was one of the few things they hadn’t cleared up in the aftermath of their argument.

Apparently Lance was gazing harder than he thought, because after a few minutes Keith turned to look up at him and whispered, “What?”

Lance, intelligently, eloquently, and caught off guard, whispered back, “What?”

“What are you staring at?” Keith whispered a little more pointedly. Pidge laughed at one of the guys onscreen trying to crawl through a window.

Lance replied softly, “I was just thinking.”

“What about?” Keith asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Why did you take my advice and come to Altea? Back when you still hated me. I’ve tried to figure it out, but I just can’t.”

The delay in Keith’s reply was filled with Hunk and Shiro exclaiming in disbelief as two of the girls did flaming shots off of one of the male’s bodies. 

“Well,” Keith began, “I hated you for- for what you said to me that night, and hated that part of your personality, but I was also- improbably, nonsensically- coming to like you. And when you suggested that to me, I knew you were saying it because you were genuinely looking out for me. I may have lied to you about- how we met. But, don’t think I lied or faked our- our friendship. Or whatever.”

Lance sat up, slightly amazed that Keith would say that. He covered the warmth and happiness it made him feel by teasing. “Aww, Keith, that's really sweet. You're worried I thought you were smart enough to fake a friendship this whole time.”

Keith jerked his head up to look at Lance, eyes narrowing as he caught on to the insult. 

“Why you…” he began, before reaching out and grabbing Lance’s ankle. With a stranglehold on Lance’s foot, he began tickling him mercilessly, causing Lance to shriek and flail with laughter in his attempts to get his foot away from Keith.

“What’s going on?” Hunk asked. “Are we having a tickle party? Because if so, I want in.”

“You two need to SHUT UP,” Pidge yelled, “Before I make you SIT OUTSIDE because I can’t FUCKING HEAR what Charlotte is telling Holly.”

Her outburst shocked the whole room into silence, Lance and Keith sitting ramrod straight after being thoroughly chastised.

After a few minutes of quiet between the two, Keith turned to look up at Lance again. “Also, just so we’re clear, that night at the dance studio when you asked me what my problem with you was? And I told you that I didn’t like your attitude and that you were super full of yourself and an awful flirt?”

Lance nodded.

Keith grinned, entirely too self-satisfied. “All that still stands. I’m still going to cut your ridiculous ego down to size, and I’m going to steal the title of number one model right out from under you, Lance McClain.”

Lance huffed a laugh, “Good luck with that rookie. You’re still ten years too early to try, but I look forward to seeing you try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6licoricesticks/VelvetcoatedWonder's Sister here! So like didn't y'all just love that but also like they didn't kiss and it's still not all better!! Y'all all have me to blame for that tho. So on a more serious note I am so happy that you are all enjoying this fic so much. I'm writing the end notes this week because I'm visiting her this weekend and I just wanted to promote her and tell how appreciative I am to her and you all.Honestly, my sister and I have talked about writing my fic ideas for so long, so when I wrote down the plot summary for this fic I didn't actually think it'd happen but it did!! I'm so happy it did too because I truly adore this so much. My sister is really wonderful because she has made sure that I love and adore every chapter to the fullest and then I get to read the wonderful comments all of you guys leave about how much you love it! anyways just thank you and tell me what you would like to see in this fic and it may just happen. (Also don't ask about the art there are a few pieces on my tumblr and you can find the link to those on like some older chapters but I've been on an inspiration kick for Hanahaki disease and also school started back so I've been having art assignment and homework so I haven't had a lot of time but I promise there will be art by the end).


	13. He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not Daisy Print High Cut Briefs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith try a date... again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIIIIIVVE!!! So last night my laptop crashed AGAIN. Dead dead this time. wouldn't do nothing. I'm posting this from one of our university library computers bc my roommate is at work w her laptop and as soon as she comes back we're going out with friends (what adults amirite). Anyway long story short I won't be able to reply to comments AGAIN this week (but you can bet I will go back and reply to them even if they're from like a month ago bc I fuckign love you guys and wanna let you know) and I also won't be able to write this week, and I thought it was overkill having two months of chapters written up in advance but boy howdy am I glad now. Anyway. Enjoy the chapter.

Lance had managed to squeeze in one more dance lesson before he shipped out for the music video, and that dance lesson was going to be one on one with Keith. Lance was going to learn some spins and lifts that were too advanced for the class but that would look very flashy for the music video.

Keith was a little worried to be in a room alone with him, both of them hot and sweaty, Lance wearing those sinfully tight exercise leggings. Their conversation at the movie night had reminded Keith of just how hot he thought Lance was. 

The night before their lesson Keith tossed and turned restlessly, remembering what Lance’s hair had smelled like when they woken up cuddling at the paladin sleepover, how soft and warm his skin had been at their photoshoot, and how pretty Lance was when he smiled.

Keith’s head might have gone back and forth on its opinion of Lance, but Keith’s body had decided that three years of admiration for the lithe Latino boy outweighed anything else, and that Keith _definitely_ had a firm interest in his body. Very firm. Almost tellingly firm, in his tight dance pants. 

The divide between Keith’s head and his body combined with his restless night meant that he was slightly frazzled when Lance threw open the studio doors to start his lesson. 

Lance was hoping his bravado was large enough that Keith didn’t notice the slight blush at the tip of Lance’s ears when Keith pulled him in close for appropriate salsa posture. Lance wondered despairingly why they had to be crotch to crotch and waist to waist for this to work. The only saving grace was that their height difference meant they didn’t line up perfectly, or else Lance was about to have to muscle through a solid hour of Keith’s dick against his, thin exercise material exacerbating the problem more than helping it.

Lance had been so caught off guard by Keith’s beauty that moment at the movie night. Lance had thought Keith was hot on-and-off throughout their interactions with each other, but any sexual attraction had been content to quietly sit on the backburner while Lance tried to just live his life and get Keith to open up to him.

Now that they weren’t fighting, that sexual attraction wasn’t just off the back burner, it had leapt off the stove and spilled itself all over Lance in a desperate attempt to remind him that Keith was _hot_ and a _boy_ and that Lance _liked_ hot boys _a lot_. 

Keith was explaining something about hand position and core work for whatever move they were about to attempt, but all Lance could focus on was how pretty his lips looked forming the words.

God he was so gay.

“Excuse me?” Keith said, “What the fuck?”

Oh shit. He’d said that out loud.

“I just- ya know.” He hedged, “Uh, getting ballroom dancing lessons while I’m in leggings from the women’s section at Target- it just hit me that I’m really just living the gay boy dream right now.” Lance congratulated himself on a nice save.

Keith gave him a look so done with life Lance felt one foot enter the grave. 

“You weren’t listening to a single thing I just said, were you?” He said incredulously.

“Uh… no. Not really.” Lance ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Keith was caught off guard at the casual attractiveness of Lance’s gesture. The way his arm flexed, the way the light caught his hair, the look on Lance’s face. Keith wanted to punch him for daydreaming instead of listening. He also wanted to punch him because no one had any business looking that hot while they were wearing sweaty gym clothes. He huffed and took a step closer to Lance, completing invading what was left of the other boy’s personal space.

“I said,” he began, hooking a hand around the underside of Lance’s thigh and pulling it up close so it rested right next to his own, “That you’ll need to make sure your leg aligns with your partner’s,” he ran his hand down the back of Lance’s leg, grabbing his ankle and twisting his calf to hook around Keith’s leg, “So you can hook your ankle around their leg to anchor yourself.” He moved his hand from Lance’s leg to his waist, pulling him in tight and then dipping him low, “So that you don’t fall when I dip you.”

Keith was dangerously close. He was right there _right there_ and a _cute boy_ was within _kissing_ distance of Lance and JESUS CHRIST this was getting ridiculous. 

“Would you want to go out to dinner sometime?” 

Lance had not meant to say that. Apparently he just had no mind to mouth filter today. That was fine.

Or at least, it was until Keith dropped him onto the unforgiving hardwood floor.

“Ow!” Lance yowled, “What the _fuck_ , man?”

“You’re really gonna make me explain something twice, and dick around as much the second time as you did the first?” Keith was very red in the face. Lance didn’t know if it was from anger or embarrassment.

“I can’t help what my mind thinks. And it thinks that now that we’re done with secret-keeping we should try that dinner thing again.”

Keith leaned his weight onto one leg. “I seem to remember you calling it a date?”

Lance cut his eyes towards the bank of mirrors on one side of the studio so he didn’t have to look at Keith, “I said a lot of things.”

“Oh, so it isn’t a date?” Keith had a shit-eating grin on his face, Lance just knew it.

“Okay, now I didn’t say that.” Lance felt like the tips of his ears were on fire, honestly, he never should have said anything-

“I’d love to try dinner again, Lance.”

Lance looked up, surprised, “Really?”

Keith cocked his head, “Yeah, if you can manage to do everything I teach you successfully by the end of this lesson.” He leaned forward slightly and offered his hand.

Lance grinned, the light of a challenge sparkling in his eyes, “Oh you’re on.” He grabbed Keith’s hand firmly, pulling himself up and assuming the perfect salsa position.

~~~

Because Lance’s schedule was packed until after the music video, Keith had a whole week to go back and forth on whether or not agreeing to the date- it was a date, right? Like, Lance had basically confirmed it was a date- was a good idea.

By the time the day of rolled around Keith was perhaps even more nervous than he had been the first time, because he’d had so much time to stew in his own thoughts and over-think things.

He and Lance met up again, this time foregoing the park and greeting each other at the restaurant itself, and Lance hadn’t been lying when he’d said it was classy and restrained. They were seated quickly, and soon Lance and Keith found themselves in a dark booth with warm ambient lighting, tucked away from the rest of the restaurant and feeling like they were in their own little world.

Keith found himself wondering all throughout the dinner if this was really a date. He and Lance had fallen back into their usual bickering, and while it didn’t have any bite, it also wasn’t at all what people did on dates… right? Keith inwardly cursed his lackluster relationship history, wishing he had more experience.

Lance, for his part, was amazed that this was happening. That Keith, who was not only hot Taujeer model boy but also hot corner store boy, had agreed to dinner. A date. A dinner date. Lance wanted to die. It almost seemed too good to be true.

There was a lull in the conversation, and Keith took the initiative to ask the question that had been on his mind all evening, even though making himself this vulnerable was extremely uncomfortable for him.

“Hey,” he began, face scrunched up because of his nerves, “Is this a date?”

Lance looked up in surprise. He’d thought that was obvious. He thought he’d said it was. But Keith looked really uncomfortable. Like. Really, _really_ uncomfortable. Oh no. What if he’d just realized this was supposed to be a date? Lance felt horror flush through him, cold and icy. What if Keith had thought this was dinner between friends and had agreed to it not thinking it was a date?

Lance rushed to assuage Keith, feeling like an idiot for his lacking communication skills, “No, no. Of course not. If this was a date, you’d know. You’d know if this was a date.”

Now Keith looked confused. “You hang out with all your friends at reclusive, upscale restaurants?”

Reeling from his revelation about Keith’s feelings, Lance’s mouth moved on autopilot, “Only the cute ones.”

“You think I’m cute?” Keith seemed genuinely surprised at that. “Do you mean that, or are you just flirting with me again? Because I thought we were past the flirting.”

“Well, we’re coming back to the flirting because yeah, I do think you’re kinda cute.” Lance tried to look as casual as possible. He had no idea what was happening with this conversation. 

Keith smirked at Lance, catching on to the fact that he had the supermodel ill-at-ease. “So you think I’m cute…” Lance braced himself for the dig he knew was coming. “You better not let your hands go anywhere near my ass.”

… And that had not been what Lance was expecting. Keith was flirting back at him? Lance had been prepared for a joke at his expense, not a returned interest. 

“Oh please,” Lance said, laughing nervously, “We all know my ass is ten times more irresistible than yours.”

Keith made to stand up, their check having been paid and the two having been lingering over coffee. Lance scrambled after him to follow him out of the restaurant, and as Keith neared the door he looked at Lance over his shoulder and honest-to-god _winked_.

“Doesn’t stop you from wanting it.”

Lance’s jaw dropped so far he had to scramble to pick it up off the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BUT WAS IT A DATE KEITH?? WAS IT A DATE LANCE?? WHY DO YOU NOT CLEARLY DISCUSS THESE THINGS?? One day I will write them having the soft date we wish to see.   
> Sorry this chapter is short, I really don't know how I feel about it, but I needed to acknowledge Lance's music video and sort of give clarification of the kind of grey zone they're treading. I don't know how well I did that, haha. Next chapter marks the start of a new story arc (ooohh!!) and I was either going to have to ruin the mood of the last chapter or make the next chapter super long or just gift you all with a kind of 12.5 transition chapter. You can see which one I went for.
> 
> As of right now I can't guarantee that I can post next Saturday (god I hate that). Also, I've only written approximately 1.5k more words of this story in the two weeks since I came back to school, where before I was writing that like every other day. Depressing. I still have five chapters totally written up and ready to go and like outlines for all my story arcs, but I'm thinking I might go to bi-weekly updates if my writing speed doesn't pick up. Just because, like, I don't want to post everything I have and then drop off the face of the earth for four months. I don't know. Weigh in in the comments on what sort of update schedule you'd like to see. And if any of you have struggled with this before give me advice bc honestly the planning side of writing is just as hard for me as the creative side. ew.


	14. Beachy Beautiful Hibiscus Bra and Panty Set

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beach episode anyone?  
> (@ everyone who sees my chapter updates but is too busy or stressed to read them, I BELIEVE IN YOU! AND I EMPATHIZE! AND I HOPE YOU HAVE FREE TIME SOON TO GET TO DO FUN THINGS!!!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter and this story arc so much this was seriously so much fun to write and i just. ugh. Also, if your inbox was recently flooded, it's BC I MANAGED TO REPLY TO COMMENTS!! YAY!! four weeks at college and I finally got a full Saturday to myself. A special shout out to all you guys that commented even when I was incommunicado, bc those warm fuzzies were much need. Thanks for the love and support <3  
> A bit of housekeeping. I'm switching to biweekly updates, so my next update will be on the 30th, but thats Anime Weekend Atlanta (ILL BE THERE AND IF UR GONNA BE THERE LEMME KNOW SO WE CAN MEET UP AND SAY HI ) so I might post on Sunday instead.Also my laptop's still dead. if anyone was wondering.  
> BUT IN CONCLUSION- TO ALL THE LONG-TIMERS, WE'RE BACK ON TRACK, I'M REPLYING TO COMMENTS AND WRITING AGAIN, AND TO ANY NEW COMERS, SMASH THAT KUDOS BUTTON AND DON'T FORGET TO SUBSCRIBE TO KNOW EVERYTIME I UPLOAD A VIDEO-I MEAN CHAPTER!

When Allura announced that their next Voltron photoshoot would be an on-location, three day, beach extravaganza for Voltron’s summer collection, the paladins’ responses were varied.

Pidge didn’t mind the outdoors. She loved nature in theory- but she couldn’t help but think this would be three days of body oil and sand in all her nooks and crannies, which made her less than enthused. But she was a professional, and she would do what Allura asked of her without complaint. Pidge only hoped they had free time. An on-location beach shoot that was all work and no play would be a very specific and sadistic kind of torture.

Hunk, Keith and Shiro didn’t care particularly one way or another. They didn’t have the aversion to it Pidge did, but they also weren’t quite as excited as Lance.

Lance _loved_ beach shoots. They were the epitome of the special something that drew him to modelling. He spent all day rolling around in the gritty sand, holding uncomfortable poses and letting the set crew douse him in coconut oil and bronzer- nothing about the day felt graceful or care free or beautiful. But then he’d see the photographer’s shots, and it was like he didn’t even recognize himself. What had felt hot and sticky and uncomfortable looked otherworldly and breathtakingly beautiful. 

Not to mention Lance had loved the ocean since he was little, and spending a day by the seaside would always be one of his favorite things, regardless of whether work was involved.

~~~

As Allura went over some of the technical details in a meeting a few days before they were due to fly out, Keith was made painfully aware of his lack of experience. He and Shiro were hanging on her every word, while the other three looked like they wanted to be anywhere but stuck in her office. Keith was sure they must have heard this spiel a thousand times, and knew exactly what getting a work visa and going through customs was like, but he had no clue.

Allura let the three veterans go quickly, sensing their impatience, but let Shiro and Keith stay back to ask some of their more obvious questions. Shiro went so far as to ask about what sort of clothes they should pack, what sort of underwear they needed, his questions getting more and more over-the-top until Keith finally just stood up and grabbed Shiro’s hand.

“Come on,” he said, heading for the door. “Allura’s got other things to do, and I am 100 percent sure it doesn’t matter what brand of sunscreen you pack.”

Shiro rose slowly from his chair, looking from Allura to his the notes he was taking on his phone. “But…”

“Matt is at at your apartment waiting for you to feed him some kind of nice, home-cooked dinner.” Keith said as he practically dragged Shiro out of the office. “Can’t disappointment him.”

“Thank you, Keith,” Allura called, “I’ll see you two bright and early at the airport!” 

“Sure thing!” Keith called back, wondering if this was going to work out all right.

~~~

Allura had secured them all seats grouped near each other on the plane, but Keith and Lance being at the end of their little line of six (Coran hadn’t come but Allura had) meant that they were stuck next to each other for the entirety of their flight.

As soon as the seatbelt lights came off, Lance had an eye mask on and neck pillow out, ready to snooze his way through the flight. Keith thought this was honestly the best possible outcome for the flight until somehow, even though he was wearing a neck pillow, Lance’s head managed to find its way onto Keith’s shoulder. 

Shiro, from across the aisle, snickered at his brother’s expression. Keith looked constipated. When he heard the snicker, Keith whipped his head around and glared at his older brother. The quick movement made Lance’s head almost slip off his shoulder, and on instinct, Keith reached up a hand to steady Lance. A phone’s camera shutter clicked from the row directly in front of them.

Keith leveled his deadliest glare at Pidge from where she peeked up over her seat, but she just said, “Blackmail part two. You guys are gonna owe me so much hush money if I ever decide to go public with these.”

“Look,” Keith hissed, trying to explain his moment of kindness, “I’m just letting this happen so none of us have to deal with a grumpy Lance when we land. I’m taking one for the team. You should be thanking me.”

Hunk popped up beside Pidge, grinning at Keith and saying, “You’re doing a great job putting up with this Keith,” sarcasm dripped from every syllable. “Really, you’re going through such a trial. You’re a saint. A real man among men.”

Keith growled and made to lunge forward, but when Lance shifted with the movement he had to appease himself by simply looking out the plane’s windows and ignoring the rest of the group’s snickering.

Seriously, couldn’t a person just do something nice without getting teased for it?

~~~

The view from the hotel was fantastic. Its balconies opened onto pristine sandy white beaches framed by dark rocks and crystal clear water. Unfortunately, the view was only seen from three bedrooms, instead of six, as Allura insisted on two to a room. She wasn’t about to spend company funds unnecessarily.

Allura had put herself with Pidge, Lance with Hunk, and Keith with Shiro. As they unpacked, Lance commented to Hunk he was a little surprised that Allura hadn’t tried to put herself in the same room as Shiro, but Hunk replied he was sure Allura wouldn’t attempt anything so shameless.

The six didn’t have a chance to do much more than set their luggage down before Allura was rushing them to a meeting so they could confer with the shoot’s creative team.

After an hour spent exhaustively fine-tuning details, Allura released the paladins, freeing them to do as they pleased. As they left, she gave them a strict warning that they’d better be down at breakfast seven a.m. sharp tomorrow, well-rested and ready to go.

Lance was fully prepared to put on his swim trunks and hit the beach, but the sun had already set, and Shiro pointed out that going to the beach at night seemed a little foolhardy when an accident could ruin the whole shoot.

Lance agreed to pass on the beach if they all went to the pool with him instead. In addition to the insanely large swimming pool in the hotel’s outdoor area, there was a bar, a restaurant, and a jacuzzi, so the others had no problem agreeing to his alternative.

They were all changed and downstairs in time to hit right after the height of the dinner crowd. Shiro got them all a table at the tiki themed restaurant, their waiter a chipper woman wearing too much khaki. When he saw how antsy Lance was to get in the water, Shiro told him to just go ahead and swim, and he’d get Hunk to order Lance something suitable.

Pidge asked for the drinks menu, which Shiro was fine with, but then she tried to order a round of shots for the table, which Shiro was not so fine with. Pidge’s antics had Shiro ordering his own drink as Hunk and Keith looked on, bemused at Shiro’s long-suffering expression as Pidge let out her more childish side. Matt and Shiro had been together forever; he was as much an older brother to her as Matt, and Pidge loved the chance to be the rambunctious younger sibling.

After the server brought them their drinks and a few appetizers that Shiro insisted Pidge eat some of before she imbibe any alcohol, the table began looking through the menu. 

Keith ordered a surf and turf platter, Shiro ordered some unintelligible fish native to the island, Pidge ordered the most exotic thing on the menu, and Hunk ordered a fish and quinoa dish for himself and some kind of shrimp stir fry for Lance. He knew Lance loved shrimp, so hopefully the dish would go over well with him.

The four of them sat talking with each other until their food came, at which time Shiro stood up to go get Lance.

The model returned to the table dripping wet, water running down every chiseled line of muscle. Keith couldn’t help his blatant stare. He wondered if he could cut diamonds on Lance’s hip bones. He wondered if he was drooling.

“Omg Hunk,” Lance gushed, “Shrimp and stir fry- two of my favorite things! I love you.”

Hunk snorted and made to tuck into his food, Lance preparing to do the same until Keith’s voice rang out, “Wait!”

He said it with such urgency that Lance dropped his fork in surprise. Everyone at the table, and a few people from nearby tables, whipped their heads around to look at him.

“Um… What?” Lance asked.

Keith just leaned forward and plucked something from Lance’s plate. 

“This dish has mushrooms,” he said, face trained on Lance so intently that the other model felt his face turning pink. “You’re allergic to mushrooms. Severely allergic. You shouldn’t eat this.”

“Oh!” Lance said, caught by surprise. “I didn’t even see that.” 

Pidge took a sip of her drink, “It’s a good thing Keith caught that, you would’ve been in a hospital for the rest of tonight and probably tomorrow.”

Hunk was flipping through the menu. “They didn’t mention there were any mushrooms in that dish.” He sounded really upset. “In fact, there’s next to no allergy warnings anywhere in this.” He looked up to Lance, an apologetic look on his face, “I totally forgot you were allergic. I’m so sorry.” He sniffled, eyes watering, “I almost killed you.”

“Hunk,” Shiro said, his voice placating, “It’s nothing so dramatic as that. It’s okay.”

“Still,” Pidge cut in, “I’m surprised Keith was the one to catch it.” She looked at Keith over the rim of her glass, “How do you know Lance is allergic to mushrooms?”

“Yeah,” Lance said, “I don’t even think that fact is like, public knowledge.”

Keith’s face abruptly turned as red as the lobster tail on his plate. “I- uh.”

Shiro smiled, always ready to give his little brother a hard time. “I bet Keith found that fact out from a fan-run tumblr account dedicated to Lance McClain trivia- Keith’s a die-hard fan of Lance’s, you know.”

Keith cut his eyes to his brother. “No I did not! I am not! I- No!” He said desperately.

Pidge cackled. “Oh my god, you totally did!” Her nose scrunched up, buzzed mind working overtime to articulate her thoughts. “You totally are! Or. Wait. You _did_ find out that fact from tumblr.” She paused for a moment. “And you _are_ a super fan. Yeah. That checks out.” She nodded, satisfied in a job well done, and reached for her glass only to find that Shiro had handed it off to a passing waiter. 

Lance sat back in his chair as he waved their server down. “You’ve looked at fan accounts dedicated to me, Keith?”

Hunk jumped in. “Now guys, I don't think we need to treat Keith like this.” He patted Keith on the shoulder for moral support. “It’s thanks to his weirdly nuanced knowledge that Lance is still with us and not in an ambulance needing a stomach pump. If he’s a super fan, we just need to let him live his super fan dreams.” He grinned at Keith, “You wanna eat Lance’s food? He’s breathed on it.”

Keith leapt out of his chair to fight Hunk, Shiro keeping him in his chair with only one arm. Pidge giggled to herself, thinking Allura was missing out. Meanwhile, Lance’s plate was taken way, the server apologizing profusely, promising that their whole check would be on the house and that Lance’s replacement stir fry would have absolutely no mushrooms in it. 

“So,” Lance said to Keith after the whole conversation had been forgotten, dinner over and everyone heading back to the hotel. “I guess you weren’t kidding that night at the corner store when you said you were my biggest fan, huh?”

Shiro didn’t manage to hold Keith back that time.

~~~

The next morning dawned bright and sunny, perfect conditions for the sun-soaked looks the photographers were going for. Pidge, while she’d been upset last night at Shiro taking her drink away, was now really glad she’d only been slightly buzzed, because a hangover in this kind of weather would have had her committing murder. Murder suicide. 

The swimsuits the paladins were modelling varied from sporty to fun. After long consultation between Coran and Allura, the two had decided that they wanted to focus on fashionable swimsuits that were extremely easy to wear. Any feminine tops had lots of structure and support to make sure they stayed in place while their wearer played, and all the bottoms had been double and triple checked to make sure there were no wedgies, clinging, or any other problems that might make for frequent wardrobe adjustments.

When Keith first came out on the sand, wardrobe had put him in one of the sporty numbers- tight boxer brief style swim shorts. They were a slightly metallic black that showed burgundy undertones when they caught the light. They also made Keith look absolutely _hung_ and like he had an ass for days. 

Lance was so gay. So, so gay. If he went back in time and told past Lance that he’d see corner store boy covered in oil and in a push-up bra for his ass and cock, past Lance would not have believed present Lance. Present Lance wasn’t sure he believed himself. Because like. An ass like that couldn’t be real. It shouldn’t be real.

Lance turned to Hunk, who was sporting loose swim shorts with the same reflective material that showed gold undertones. “You think that ass is real?” He asked.

Hunk didn’t even turn to look at Lance; instead he kept staring into the middle distance, his face giving away nothing as he said, “Why don’t you touch it and find out?”

Lance let out an embarrassing squeak and blushed so hard a passing makeup assistant asked if he’d properly applied his sunscreen. Pidge snorted and adjusted her sunglasses.

Keith was second to last to get out of wardrobe, and as such he hadn’t gotten to see what Lance was wearing.

Keith had only gotten to enjoy a few days of being a part of Lance’s fandom before the corner store incident had ruined it all. As such, he hadn’t had a lot of time to build up any sort of tolerance or immunity to swimsuit Lance. Last night had been bad enough, when Lance had been in a pair of nondescript swim trunks meant for function, not fashion, but today, Lance was every inch the supermodel the media proclaimed him to be.

He was wearing shorts of the same cut as Keith’s, with the same padding of the bulge in the front, but his had a ruffled peplum along the top. A bandeau halter top drew complimented his collar bones, and the bright blue background color against the deep green and rich red of the hibiscus print accented Lance’s skin tone beautifully. Keith had only seen two other swimsuit shoots of Lance’s that had actually been on beaches and not boudoir style, and he was realizing this was a serious gap in his knowledge that needed to be remedied ASAP. If Keith thought Lance looked good in the leggings and loose tops he wore in his day to day life, Lance looked absolutely amazing in the clothes Allura had designed.

He’d meant to walk over and join Hunk, Lance and Pidge, but his steps faltered when he saw how cute Lance looked. All long, long legs and smooth stomach and that flawless tan skin that just seemed to go on forever and-

“Hey, Keith?” Lance said, voice smug.

“Yeah?” Keith shook himself mentally.

“You’re staring.” Lance put a hand on his hip, slyly showing off the line of his abdomen.

On reflex Keith bit back, “So are you.”

Lance’s face went bright red, letting Keith know that his taunt had hit home, “I am not!”

Keith was preparing a great comeback when Hunk suddenly stuck a hand between the two and said, “Guys you really need to see this.”

“What?” The two said at the exact same time, turning in sync to look where Hunk pointed. Beside them, Pidge started catcalling.

Shiro had just come out of wardrobe, but he wasn’t so much walking out as he was… creeping. Keith could understand why he looked so hesitant. Shiro was squeezed into a tiny, tiny, speedo. The fabric was black metallic, like Keith’s, but with an undertone of silver, and it was doing Shiro a _lot_ of favors in the performance department. 

One of the wardrobe assistants, seeing his discomfort, called after him with a towel. When he turned around to accept it, Pidge’s cat calls were abruptly cut off by howls of laughter. Shiro’s speedo covered half his butt cheeks. Maybe. The top half. The curve of his bubble butt was totally out to the elements, slathered in fake tan and glistening with body oil.

Hunk said, his voice monotone, “What do you wanna bet Allura had this planned from the moment he left the studio?”

“We should have known something was up when she didn’t try to get Shiro to room with her.” Pidge agreed. “She was being too nice.”

“I don’t know,” Lance said, “I’m appreciating the view.”

“That’s my brother,” Keith said, slightly offended.

“I know,” Lance replied nonchalantly. “I’m wondering about the family resemblance.”

Keith’s face abruptly turned as red as Shiro’s, while Allura finally materialized from wherever she’d been hiding to provide the paladins with instructions. She herself was wearing a breezy sundress and floppy sunhat, and she looked like Christmas and her birthday had come at the same time. 

“All right everyone,” she said, clapping her hands together, “Oh no, Shiro,” she said, gesturing with one finger for him to drop the towel. “You don’t need that. You’ll wipe off the oil.”

Shiro hesitantly dropped the towel on the sand, before shifting from foot to foot. “Allura,” he began.

“Yes, Shiro?” She said, smile so blindingly bright Lance felt the need for Pidge’s sunglasses.

“You told me I’d be wearing a speedo. Last time I checked, speedos don’t really…” He trailed off, before gathering his courage and finishing, “They don’t really let this much show.”

Her smile never wavered, “It’s technically a cheekini, they’re very hot this season. Is there a problem with it?”

Shiro opened his mouth to answer but Allura had already turned around and started for the camera equipment, “Oh my, what a busy day,” she said, “Already so behind schedule!”

Lance snorted, “We’re ahead of schedule, Allura.”

She turned around and gave him a glare.

There were two photographers going, one near a rocky outcropping that had a wonderful backdrop of white sea spray as the waves crashed against it, and another set up just where the sugary white sand met the clear water. 

Pidge and Lance were throwing around a beach ball and laughing very exaggeratedly for the camera. Pidge’s swimsuit was a sportier version of Lance’s, with the same print but less effeminate touches. She’d chosen to wear that one for the ad campaign after looking over everything Allura had presented to her, and she had to admit she really liked it.

Keith was taking photos on the rocks, making various dark, pensive faces at the camera in an effort to look like he was sexy and not just squinting into the sun. 

Lance happened to look over right as Keith ran a hand through his hair, and he was so distracted by the other boy’s looks that he took a beach ball to the face. It made a sickening slap as it hit the side of his face, and Pidge, like the good friend she was, just stood off to the side guffawing as makeup artists piled concealer on in an effort to hide the redness. 

For Shiro’s photos, the photographer decided against using the rocks, but rather wanted him in the water. They told him to swim a little ways out, until he could fully submerge, and then break the surface and walk toward the beach.

Shiro did just that, and Allura, who’d been sitting on a beach chair watching the chaos unfold, moved to stand next to the photographer. As he came up, water running down his chiselled abs and his muscles flexing with effort of resisting the waves, Allura pulled out her phone and began taking a video.

The photographer called for Shiro to brush his wet hair back, which he did in a move so hot that both Allura and Lance let out audible sighs of sheer appreciation. 

Eventually the water was shallow enough that Shiro was just slogging through the sand and silt, and the photographer had him go back to where it was about mid thigh so they could take some still shots. 

Allura looked up from her phone and called to Shiro, “What’s your boyfriend’s email address?”

“Why?” Shiro called back, face befuzzled. 

“He should see what he’s missing,” she replied.

Lance, now that he was out of his coordinated feminine shots with Pidge, was going to take some masculine shots with Keith and Hunk. He’d just gotten out of hair and makeup, walking along the beach to where they had a refreshment station set up, when he caught sight of the very last person he expected to see.

Lotor, with his hair in a high ponytail and followed by his entourage of super models, was standing on the walkway not thirty feet from Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN yeah that's right this is the evil ex boyfriend arc. MWAHAHAHA.  
> *uses the words peplum and bandeau once* AM I A REAL FASHION AUTHOR YET? AM I QUALIFIED FOR HEROES OF COSPLAY? PLEASE?  
> I bet all y'all you who don't like Allura REALLY didn't like her in this chapter (ﾟ∀ﾟ*) but that's chill, tell me about it in the comments. I like her, but i 100% will agree the way i've written her is problematic for some peeps. and that's chill, y'all're entitled to feelings.  
> Also I wrote this chapter before season three dropped so like I didn't lotor had an actual super model squad and if i have time i will try to go back and include them in this BUT I MAKE ZERO PROMISES


	15. Caught Off Guard High Tide Bikini Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance are Doing Their Best to live out a beach episode, but Lotor just ain't havin' it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY FOR NOT POSTING YESTERDAY but awa did not have working wifi or data. I love overloaded data networks, they're my faaaavorite. but it was ok bc awa was really fun. I got to meet up with one of my readers, lilshu65, and they're awesome and amazing and it was actually a blessing in disguise bc we got to buddy up for a panel, holla! anywho, now that all this hullabaloo has died down and my laptop is back, I'm hoping to be able to write more than a thousand words and more than once a week. (famous words, amirite?)

Lance had a desperate moment in which he hoped Lotor simply wouldn’t see him, but those hopes were dashed when Lotor turned and they made full eye contact. Lance felt his whole body flush cold with a sickening cocktail of surprise and dread- what was Lotor doing here? Why was he here, _here_ of all places, the exact same hotel and beach as the Voltron shoot?

The other supermodel began making his way over, a gleam in his eye that had Lance’s imagination running wild with horrible possibilities. Lance turned, stumbling, and began running back to the safety of the set and crew. He ran past where Allura and the other models were, looking to just get away, already feeling the burn of tears in his eyes. Seeing Lotor always made him emotionally unstable but right now, with no warning, Lance was feeling caught off guard in the worst way possible.

Allura and the paladins were talking logistics when Lance suddenly ran past them like the devil himself was giving chase. Hunk called out to him in concern, but Lance didn’t hesitate or look back.

Allura looked around, trying to see what could make Lance so upset, only to see that someone worse than the devil followed behind Lance. She let out an audible curse. Pidge, following her gaze, echoed Allura’s profanity while Hunk hissed through his teeth. Allura had no idea what Lotor was doing here; she most certainly hadn’t known about it. No wonder Lance had gone running, a surprise visit from Lotor would probably upset even the man's own mother. She just hoped the taint wipe of a human being that was the Galra heir hadn’t already said anything to Lance. 

Keith stood a little ways off from the group and saw Lance run past, but he missed Lotor’s imminent arrival. Hearing the curses from Pidge and Allura, he turned to ask what happened only to find the three all staring at him.

“What?” He asked.

“Aren’t you going to go after him?” Hunk replied expectantly.

Keith stared at him stupidly before Pidge explained, “Lance is clearly upset. And you are clearly in the best position to find out what happened.”

“How do you figure that?” He asked, feeling reasonably sure Lance would much rather have any other member of the team, even Shiro, probably go to him right now.

But instead of answering, Pidge just made a shooing motion at Keith, gesturing for him to go after Lance. 

Keith shook his head but headed off anyway.

Lotor, seeing that Lance had disappeared beyond the set and that he’d have to walk through Allura to get to him, backed off, returning to his fellow supermodels.

Lance had run past two rock outcroppings before he was too out of breath to keep going. He curled up in the shadow of a third, attempting to stop the hitches in his breath and wishing that his hands weren’t covered in sand so he could wipe at his eyes. 

He’d nearly succeeded in calming his breath when he heard the quiet swish of footsteps in sand. Lance curled in on himself. He hoped it wasn’t Lotor. But then again, he also hoped it wasn’t a member of Allura’s crew. His breathing picked up again, and Lance put his head between his knees in an effort to stave off a full-blown crying fit.

The footsteps came closer and closer, Lance just focussing on his breathing, before they stopped and two pale, gangly feet came into his view. The toes were almost freakishly long, and the skin was so pale they almost blended into the sand. Those were not Lotor’s toes. If Lotor had feet that ugly he’d have gotten plastic surgery a long time ago.

Lance looked up, well aware he had tear tracks on his face, only to see Keith standing in front of him, his hands clasped behind his back and his whole body language radiating unease.

Lance let out a laugh that was wetter than he wanted it to be. “You look like you have no idea what you’re doing.”

Keith gave a little huff, some of the tension draining from his shoulders. “That’s because I don’t. Pidge- the whole gang, really- just sent me after you.”

Lance grimaced, leaning his head back on the rock behind him. “Sorry about that.” He gave a big sniff, trying to clear his nose. “I’ll head back to set soon. Just let me- just let me calm down a bit.”

Keith nodded, but made no move to leave. He just shifted his weight from foot to foot and looked out at the waves. After a few moments of silence he huffed, “You wanna talk about it?”

Lance opened his mouth, fully prepared to deflect and distract, but instead what came out was, “I saw Lotor. And I just totally wasn’t expecting it. I never react well to seeing Lotor, I really had to psych myself up for the pre-launch party, and Allura had to assure me like twenty seven times that Lotor would never try to talk to me with her right there, but- today was a total surprise. And I just didn’t react well.”

Keith didn’t say anything, so Lance continued on. “And I just always get scared when I see him, because run-ins with Lotor are never pleasant, ya know? He’s always got something to say, and my stomach just fills with dread by reflex at this point. And like, he’s got so much power, so there’s always a part of me that wonders if I really managed it. If I really managed to just- walk away from him. And so when I see him I’m just like, oh no, what if he wants something with me, and today when he saw me he started towards me and I just. Yeah. It was a lot to deal with all at once.”

With Lance’s feelings out in the open, he did feel lighter, much lighter, but also slightly ashamed. It sounded so stupid when he said it out loud. He looked up at Keith, only to find the boy staring at him intently.

“Sorry,” Lance apologized on reflex. No one wanted to listen to his feelings. God, after hearing all this there was no way Keith would be interested in a second date. He was probably thoroughly disillusioned- Lance was a pretty face, but his issues kept him from being attractive in any other way. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this.” Lance looked away. “This is your first on-location shoot, and here I am weighing you down with needless worries.”

Keith was still staring. He didn’t comfort people, he didn’t give pep talks, those were Shiro’s thing. So even while Keith desperately wanted to tell Lance how strong Lance was for going through everything that he had, and how beautiful Lance’s resilience was, the words just wouldn’t come. Keith was stuck looking at Lance with a scowl on his face that came from wanting to punch Lotor in the face and gather Lance up in a hug all at the same time.

Lance winced at the dark look on the other model’s face, knowing he must have just made Keith so uncomfortable. He got up and shook himself, brushing sand off his knees. He flashed Keith a bright smile and headed off. When he was safely in front of Keith, he left the smile fall off his face, but kept his voice light and airy as he said, “I’m fine now! Let’s head back to the shoot!”

Keith headed after him, slightly suspicious that Lance would just bounce back so quickly. “You sure you’re fine?” He asked.

“Yep!” Lance said. “Right now I just can’t wait to get back in front of a camera!”

Keith didn’t believe that for a second, but he didn’t know what to else to do, so he just followed after Lance.

The rest of the day passed in a haze for Lance. He knew Allura could tell his energy was off, but since none of the photographers said anything Lance figured it was okay. His thoughts were suddenly nowhere near the beach, but rather on whatever shadowy area of the island Lotor was currently occupying. Lance had been planning to use this trip to bond with Keith and spend time quietly ogling him in a swimsuit. Now, though, those plans held no appeal.

When they got back to the hotel that evening, Allura asked Lance if he’d accompany her to the hotel’s sauna. It was a painfully see-through attempt to get him out of his room and improve his mood, but Lance also thought it might work, so he agreed. 

He’d done the right thing to trust Allura, because by the time he left the sauna he did feel a lot better. Soft and moisturized and pretty- self-care did a lot to improve his mental well-being. Not for the first time, Lance congratulated Allura on knowing her models extremely well.

But as soon as Lance entered the lobby, the tentative peace of mind he’d been enjoying was shattered. Lotor was standing by the very same bank of elevators Lance needed to take if he wanted to get back to his room. Lance decided to sneak back the way he’d came, but Lotor caught sight of him and called out, “Why, if it isn’t Lance McClain! Don’t be a stranger, let’s catch up!”

Lance mentally cursed, knowing Lotor would never try this if Lance wasn’t by himself, but plastered a smile on his face and prepared to greet Lotor nonetheless.

“Lotor, it’s been… so long.” Lance said, hoping his enthusiasm didn’t sound as fake to everyone else as it did to him.

Lotor practically purred at the face of discomfort Lance was making. The other model was clearly ill at ease with the situation. “Yes, it has been quite some time. You look like you can’t decide if it’s been too long or not long enough.” 

“Oh I definitely know which one it is,” Lance muttered, his body sick with the tension of not knowing what Lotor was doing here or why he’d gone out of his way to interact with Lance twice now.

Before Lotor could say anything else, Keith came out of another side hallway. The Latino supermodel would swear before every crucifix in his mama’s house that he’d never been so happy to see the other model.

Keith looked surprised to see Lotor with Lance for the briefest of moments, but then his eyebrows furrowed and he stepped up close to Lance, grabbing the boy’s hand and pulling Lance behind him. A rather ineffective move, since Lance was plenty tall enough to still see Lotor, but it sent Lotor a message loud and clear.

“Lance, what are you doing with this guy?” Keith hissed to him.

“Waiting for my knight in shining armor to show up and save the day of course,” Lance said, hiding his discomfort with the cocky one liner and a cheeky wink at the shorter model.

Lotor, across from them, leaned his weight onto one hip, visibly reassessing the situation.

Keith paused and gave Lance a dead look over his shoulder, letting him know that this was so not the time.

Turning his attention instead to the Galra model he asked, “What are you doing with one of our models? You got a problem?”

“And what if I did?” Lotor asked. “What _would_ you do?”

Keith just glared harder, unable to come up with an answer on the spot.

“Still,” Lotor continued, “Nice to see you so committed to the role of knight in shining armor.” He grinned, leaning forward so a single strand of hair fell over his shoulder and flatteringly framed his cheek. “I saw you run after him earlier today.” The words were said with such contempt that Keith and Lance both physically recoiled. “You finally fucking him then? Love birds? Dating?” Lotor’s voice was a patronizing sing-song. “Going out, as the kids say?”

Contrary to Lotor’s expectations, his jibe did not hit home. Far from it, instead Lance and Keith shrieked in perfect synch, “We are not going out!”

Lance made exaggerated gagging noises. “Me? With this guy? Lotor I thought you were smarter than that! He’s got an ego as big as Texas, no way that’s attractive.”

“Oh, I have a big ego?” Keith said. “You’ll flirt with anything that moves and have an ego twice the size of mine- I’m not about to put up with that!”

Lance gasped and snapped back at Keith, the two instantly creating an atmosphere exclusive to the two of them, pushing Lotor to the outside. He grimaced. Lotor didn’t like being ignored, especially by these two.

“Well,” he said, forcibly interrupting the two who seemed to have forgotten he was even there. “Whether you’re together or not doesn’t matter to me.”

They both paused, seeming to remember he was in the room. 

“What do you want, Lotor? Just tell us why you’re here!” Keith interjected.

Miffed at being ignored, Lotor looked away. “Why I’m here? I’m here to shoot Vrepit Sa’s new summer line. What I want?” He gave them a grin that was all teeth. “Why don’t you two take a guess.”

Lance grimaced, imagining Lotor wreaking revenge in a million and one horrible ways, but before he could say anything Allura’s voice cut in. The woman had left the sauna a few minutes after Lance, and so she had just now come out of the same hallway Lance had. Seeing Lotor talking to her model _again_ had her seeing red.

“Lotor, I believe I’ve told you before that I will not hesitate to pursue a restraining order against you if you try to talk to my model.” She stepped right up in Lotor’s face, daring him to say anything to the contrary.

The Galra model pulled back, squaring his shoulders and straightening up to his full height, about to reply to Allura when one of the other models he’d come to the island with stepped out of the elevator on the other side of the lobby.

“Lotor!” she called, bright red ponytail waving behind her.

He grimaced and turned around, “In a minute, Ezor!”

“No, I really think you ought to come now,” she replied, absolutely no hesitance in her voice, “Zethrid just found the mini bar in your room.”

“What is she doing in my room?”

Ezor just smiled, looking like someone trying to cutesy their way out of being in trouble.

Without even a backwards glance at Allura and the two paladins, Lotor headed off for the elevators, leaving the other three in shock at the strange turn of events.

“So even Lotor has things he’s afraid of, huh?” Lance’s attempt at a joke fell flat in the strange atmosphere left by Lotor’s absence.

Allura visibly shook herself and then turned to Keith and Lance. “Keith, thank you for stepping in to assist Lance when you did. Lance, I am sincerely worried. This is the second time Lotor has gone out of his way to talk to you. Did he say why?”

Lance snorted. “Why does he do anything? I don’t know.”

~~~

The next morning saw a zombified Lance shuffling through the buffet line wondering if he could just drink coffee and eat a bowl of cereal without Allura nagging at him. She was already dressed and in a full face of makeup, eating an egg white omelette and drinking black tea, the kind of breakfast Lance knew he _should_ be having. But he really didn’t want to.

Just as he made to leave the buffet bar, Keith’s voice, rough with sleep, came from behind him. 

“Why aren’t you eating?” 

Lance jumped about a foot in the air, whirling around to look at Keith. His heart was not prepared for what was before him. Keith’s hair had a crazy amount of volume and a couple of darling cowlicks, and seeing him in an oversized t-shirt and joggers was doing funny things to Lance’s heart. The hint of dark fuzz ghosting along Keith’s jaw had him weak.

“I-uh,” he began articulately. “I wasn’t feeling especially hungry.”

Keith frowned and took Lance’s plate before prowling around the buffet table, picking up all sorts of foodstuffs Lance couldn’t see.

“Hey!” Lance griped, watching Keith decide the first plate was full and grabbing a second one. “Just because I’m not eating doesn’t mean you can steal my plate.”

“Where are you sitting?” Keith asked, ignoring Lance’s pouting.

“Over there, with Allura.”

Keith nodded. “Cool.”

He headed off, Lance huffing and following behind him.

When they got to Allura’s table and sat down, Keith kept one plate in front of himself but put the other plate in front of Lance.

“Here,” he said, “You need to eat quick, right? You’re first for makeup.”

Lance stared at the plate in front of him. So Keith hadn’t stolen Lance’s plate, but instead gotten breakfast for him. And it was all light foods, and Lance’s favorites. Honeydew, a little cup of (mushroomless) miso soup, poached salmon and eggs…

“How the fuck did you pick all my favorites?” He asked.

Keith just huffed and shoveled more eggs into his mouth, but the scrape of a chair had Lance looking up to Shiro who answered, “Remember the mushroom thing? I bet it’s like the mushroom thing.”

Shiro voice was deep and gravelly with sleep too and unlike Keith’s barely-there shadow, Shiro had a face full of stubble. Lance gave Allura a hard stare to make sure they were both in agreement that Shiro looked a million times hotter with stubble. She made a subtle hallelujah gesture with one hand to let Lance know just how blessed they were by morning-Shiro’s presence.

~~~

Elsewhere in the hotel, Lotor was also eating breakfast, heavily preoccupied with thoughts of the model he’d run into yesterday.

Lotor had enjoyed the relationship he’d had with Lance. The boy had been cute, good eye candy, a fantastic fuck, and so, so very eager to please. His sunshiny personality and ability to bounce back from seemingly anything had made Lotor want to push. As much as he’d enjoyed seeing Lance’s eyes light up with joy and wonder, some hidden sadistic part of him had enjoyed seeing those big blue eyes fill with tears, too.

While Lotor recognized he was an awful human being for indulging in the taunts he’d thrown at Lance to sadden the boy, he’d never thought about stopping. What did he care for upstanding citizenship? He was here for a good time in the decadent sense, not the moral. 

When Lance came to him, hesitant, like he was asking permission to leave Lotor and change companies, Lotor had dismissed him flagrantly. He’d announced that _clearly_ Lance wasn’t up to the challenge of being a Galra model, and if he wanted to inflict subpar modelling on some other agency he should feel free to do so. Lotor hadn’t addressed the break up. He told himself he wasn’t emotionally involved enough to make it worth talking about.

Looking back, Lotor didn’t know what he’d expected- for Lance to come crawling back to him? For Lance to drift into obscurity? Whatever he’d expected, it hadn’t been Lance coming into his own and eventually becoming a supermodel in his own right. Lotor had been upset at first, enraged that something he’d _discarded_ had gone on to become useful elsewhere.

But he’d gotten over that fairly quickly. Lotor wasn’t some petty child; he could accept and move on. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he went out of his way to avoid the other model. The frequent threats of restraining orders from Lance’s manager certainly provided incentive, but Lotor had also genuinely lost interest in the boy.

Or rather he thought he had, until he’d seen Lance’s eyes go wide with fear yesterday. A million old feelings had flushed through Lotor’s body so quickly he felt overwhelmed. He’d wanted to go over to him, to see what other reactions he could tease out of the boy, just like old times.

When he’d seen that the ex-Galra model was the one to go after him, Lotor had tamped down on a sudden, fierce flash of irritation. Seeing someone else deal with Lance’s emotional fallout had Lotor feeling things he thought he’d gotten over. But then again, he’d never seen Lance with anyone else. Lotor had been thinking, subconsciously, that even if he didn’t currently lay claim to Lance’s body, it didn’t matter as long as no one else did. If Lotor didn’t have him, no one did. But apparently now someone was filling the spot Lotor had left in Lance’s heart, and Lotor wasn’t sure he was willing to let that spot go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are things with Lotor over? Was his strategic retreat a sign of surrender or an attempt to bide his time and wait for a better opportunity? Will you leave me another comment wishing Lotor super creative death threats? are you second hand stressed bc you just want Keith and Lance to be safe and happy? find out next time on... Shoujo Anime Tropes Reimagined for Voltron Characters!


	16. Caught Off Guard High Tide Bikini Bottom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Lotor Fight™ and then I soothe your emotions with that Soft Gay Shit™ and some Feelings™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVEN'T SEEN SEASON FOUR YET IM SORRY. Midterms are kicking my ass (bad thing about being an english major is you get so many FUCKIGN papers). I was going to take a break, relax, and watch it last night but my roommate and I had a huge fight instead, so I was not in a good head space to properly enjoy it. I'm still not, tbh. So no spoilers!
> 
> Good news is I'm writing every week again, so we're going to be able to continue with these regular updates. Sorry about having to increase the space between updates but between school and my job and my music performance scholarship- AND ACK! Let's just be glad I'm writing regularly, yeah? Anyway, you guys don't want to hear about the man behind the mask, you want to hear about Lotor fucking shit up, so ON TO THE CHAPTER!!
> 
> *WARNING for Lotor being extra creepy and giving off nearly rapey and/or abusive vibes so be aware that if it's too intense for you, you'll want to skim the first half of their convo.

Lance was in his makeup tent on the beach, chilling out far away from any ultraviolet lighting while he could. Today Allura had him wearing something between a tankini and a strappy one piece- he wasn’t exactly sure. There was a high-necked crop top, and a high-cut, high-waisted bottom. The bottom had lacing details on the back and sides, and the top had them in the back, sides and front. 

Lance had needed help getting in the thing, and when Allura had listed all the adjectives it came with he’d told her it was way too finicky to ever be successful commercially. The corporate woman had simply given him an angelic smile and told him to shut up and suit up.

If nothing else, he liked the dark, navy color and the slinky, sexy way he felt in it. And he supposed Allura was right, he was paid to wear the clothes, not comment on their marketability.

Lance’s downtime was interrupted when a make up assistant lifted the flap of his tent and called, “Hey, Lance!”

“Yeah?” He looked over, trying to hide that he’d been playing a dress-up game on his phone.

“There’s someone here to see you,” they said.

Lance was instantly on guard. There was only one person who would come to visit him and not give their name to the assistant- Lotor.

He was _not_ going through this shit again. Yesterday, Lotor had caught him off guard and Lance had gotten to be the ball in a game of Emotions Ping-Pong. Nuh-uh, not today. Today, Lance was wearing a swimsuit with more titles than the Queen of England, and he was going to be a Queen every bit as fierce. 

So he hissed to the assistant, “Tell him I’m changing and it’ll be a few minutes,” and promptly jumped out of his chair and military crawled out the back flap of his tent, opposite the side where his evil ex awaited him.

Lance was just congratulating himself on a job well done when he happened to realize someone was standing in front of him. Someone with the feet of a Greek god and the calves of an Olympic athlete. Lance made a mental note that Lotor had _definitely_ had orthopedic cosmetic surgery. 

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“Such crude language,” Lotor crooned. “What would _Teen Vogue_ say?”

“They’d say that miserable rat bastards like you shouldn’t ruin perfect beach views,” Lance sniped, trying to sum up every bit of sassiness his clothes could give him. He was a fucking world renowned fashion model, and he shouldn’t have to feel so afraid of this one fucking person.

Lotor laughed, leaned back and open-mouthed cackled. No one sassed him quite like Lance did.

The smaller model, taking advantage of Lotor’s momentary distraction, continued with his fierce, Queenly actions by scrambling to his feet to run back towards the rest of the set. He mentally cursed the suddenly absent assistant that had brought Lotor to his tent in the first place. Where was the help when you needed them?

Unfortunately Lance only managed a few steps before Lotor simply hooked a finger through the laces on the back of Lance’s bottoms. The boy gave an undignified squawk at the feel of unwelcome fingers brushing the small of his back. 

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” Lance asked, unwilling to move even a bit lest Lotor decided he needed a better grip.

Lotor grinned, pulling Lance closer to him anyway. “Well I wanted to come say hi, but it looks like you didn’t want to see me.” He ran a hand across Lance’s arm, the touch impersonal enough that all Lance felt was anger and disgust. “You look cute in this,” he remarked casually. “I could almost eat you up.”

Lance grimaced, “Okay, first of all, creeper alert, you’ve gotten even creepier since I left you, which shouldn’t be possible but it is, second of all there’s no _fuckin’_ way I’m indulging your vore kink and letting you eat me, and third of all _why the fuck are you here_?”

“I already told you,” Lotor said, leaning in and resting his chin on Lance’s shoulder and moving his hand from the back of Lance’s bottoms to the flat plane of his abdomen, “I’m shooting a line for Vrepit Sa.”

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant, _asshole_.” Lance twisted in Lotor’s grasp. “If you wanted to talk to me, you knew where to find me- it didn’t have to be at a bizarre beach location where we’re both working. Could have-” he gave a sharp inhale as Lotor’s other hand stopped petting his arm and moved to trace his clavicle, “You could have come to Altea if you ever decided you had something to say.”

“Well, I didn’t.” Lotor said, enjoying the sheer sensationalism of having Lance’s smooth body in his arms again. “Didn’t have anything to say to you, that is. I really was just going to say hi that first day. But then I saw that _you_ have a new _boy toy_ , and I really just don’t know if I approve.” He tilted his head, and the spill of his hair shifted across Lance’s back, tickling his skin.

Lance fought to stifle his involuntary shiver. “He’s not my boy toy.”

Lotor hummed uninterestedly, showing how little he believed Lance. “I was perfectly happy to let you go your way, but then I saw with what you chose to replace me. And _really_. Him? He looks like a seventh grader auditioning for a daytime television show. Pathetic. I mean really Lance, I know you have low standards, for yourself and everyone else, but- I can’t let people know that someone I dated is now- well, letting himself be used by _that_.”

“I’m not getting used by anybody!” Lance’s voice was harsh, memories of his darker days with the Galra flitting through his head, “My life is my own.” 

“That’s not how Keith sees it,” Lotor said in a sing-song lilt, finger-stepping his way up Lance’s throat and across his cheek. “That boy ran after you like you had him on a leash. You’ve got him well-trained, at least.”

“It’s not like that.” It hurt Lance to admit it, but he knew it was true. “He doesn’t care about me one way or the other.” 

Keith thought he was attractive and enjoyed his company (though, after yesterday even that was in question) but that was it.

Lotor rubbed his face against Lance’s, one hand easily loosening the stupid laces against Lance’s neck so he could peel the swim top away. “Oh who said anything about caring? I said he was using you. And you were using him. He’s just a replacement for me- and even I didn’t care about you.” 

Lotor honest to god _licked_ Lance’s neck. Lance knew it was just to be creepy; he tasted like sunscreen, bronzer, powder and a million other unpleasant things. Didn’t stop him from still feeling severely creeped though.

“You like the taste of Banana Boat SPF 50?” Lance gritted out through his teeth. “Or maybe it’s the bronzer you like, huh?” He shifted restlessly, trying to get out from under the hands at his throat and on his belly. “One thing I can tell you for sure- green is _not_ your color.”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow,” Lotor said, leaning away from Lance’s skin and pouting that he hadn’t gotten the reaction he wanted. “That was an extreme non sequitur, even for your little bird brain.”

“ _Christ_ , you are such an emotionally abusive asshole,” Lance grunted. “I meant that you’re jealous of me. Or jealous over me. Jealous of the fact that I’ve moved on, even though you were the one that let me go- or more accurately, drove me off.”

Lotor snorted. “Me? Jealous? Do I have to be jealous to do something like this? You think I gave enough fucks about you to be jealous of you? Maybe I just saw something I didn’t like. Saw some Asian twink who’s too cocky for his own good and wanted to put him in his place.”

Lance couldn’t help but laugh at the blatant denial Lotor was giving him, and Lotor pulled back a little, surprised that Lance wasn’t perturbed, even a bit. Lance took advantage of his momentary distraction to grab the arm at his waist and yank, twisting himself out of Lotor’s hold.

“Look, asshat,” he said, adjusting his top, “This is how it is: You threw me away, and it looks like it’s my turn to do the same to you. Keith is my- my main focus now,” Lance stumbled for a moment trying to think of an appropriate phrase, “The two of us are busy aiming for the top- we don’t have time for you. If anyone’s gonna put Keith in his place, it’s gonna be me. As long as he’s in this industry, there’s no one else that can be the world’s number one masculine model- not even you, not even for an instant. If he’s not on top, my beating him has no meaning. He’s gonna knock your ass down a notch, and then I’m gonna knock his ass down a notch. So don’t get in his way, and don’t get in my way.”

Someone suddenly stepped out from the other side of the tent. Lotor and Lance both looked up to see Keith standing there with a look on his face neither of them could quite decipher.

“I came to get you when you were late to set,” Keith said. “Now I’m glad I came.” He shifted his attention to Lotor. “Care to step away from him, or do I need to call for Allura?”

Lotor shifted further away from Lance than he already was, which put him closer to Keith. Chuckling, he said to Lance, “I’m not interested in fighting with you over Keith, and I don’t appreciate being pushed to the side.” 

Lotor moved, quick and sinuous, and suddenly he was curled around Keith, a hand twisted around his arms and fisted in the back of his hair and the other grabbing his chin in a cruel pinch. “How about I just go for Keith directly? Keep him out of the number one spot so your attention stays focused on me?”

Lance gaped, shocked at what Lotor was saying, while Lotor pressed his face into Keith’s hair and whispered, pressing his lips to the shell of Keith’s ear, “I don’t know what happened between you and my charming ex-lover that your relationship is _this_ fucked up, but do you think I could be as awful as he was? I saw the way you hated him while you were at Galra modelling. Ulaz told me about your first photoshoot with Lance. That boy did something unforgivable to you, I know it, and now you’re completely fixated on him. But do you think you could come to be just as fixated on me instead? Do you think I could use your own hatred and bitterness to make you think of me just as much as you do Lance? And, in amongst all that hate, bury a spark of attraction, so that even though you hate watching me with every fiber of your being, you just can’t bring yourself to look away?”

Lotor shifted his hold on Keith, pulling him in. Lance realized that Lotor was going in for a kiss, and before he quite knew what he was doing the smack of his fist on Lotor’s face rang through the area.

“You need to leave.” Lance said, breathing harsh and loud in the sudden stillness. “I don’t care if you don’t like that you’re out of my life. That’s the way it is, and if you try to change that I will do my very best to ruin your career.”

Lotor opened his mouth to reply, but the sound of voices had him instead moving to leave. However, Keith grabbed ahold of him with a tight grip on his forearm. 

“Allura’s going to want to have words with you about that restraining order,” Keith said, voice dark.

~~~

Allura had not wanted to just have words with Lotor, but also with his agent, the shoot supervisor, and some upper echelons back at the Galra headquarters. She managed, with no small amount of threats and strong-arming, to get the whole Vrepit Sa photo shoot moved to an entirely different island. 

Without Lotor there to interfere, Lance’s mood improved significantly, and on the last day of shooting he found himself glad they had come. Sure, all the Lotor drama had been no small amount of terrifying, but these past few days had been so wonderful they smoothed over all the bad spots for him.

They were all done with shooting, and as the set crew packed up all the equipment, the paladins were finally free to enjoy themselves. Shiro had somehow been wrangled back into the speedo from the first day, but he seemed more at ease in it now as he carried Pidge on his shoulders, trying to keep steady as she did her best to knock them into the water. Hunk and Lance stood off to the side laughing, but Lance’s eyes kept wandering to Keith, who sat a little way off from the chaos of the set, watching the waves with a far-away look in his eyes. 

“Legolas, what do your elf eyes see?” Lance joked, slogging through the water to plop next to Keith.

At Keith’s blank stare, Lance rolled his eyes, “Of course you haven’t seen _Lord of the Rings_. Isn’t your brother supposed to be like some kind of nerd? I thought all engineers were nerdy.”

“Just because he’s seen it doesn’t mean I have.” Keith said, face and voice monotone in a way that showed he’d missed Lance’s joke completely. “I watched _Stargate_ and _Stargate Universe_. And _Firefly_.” 

“You sound like someone who wanted to watch _Star Trek_ but didn’t quite get that far,” Lance chuckled.

“Did you come over here just to make fun of my childhood TV shows?” Keith huffed.

“No, I actually came over here to see if you were okay. You looked- I don’t know. Pensive.” 

Keith smirked, “That’s a big word, Lance, you sure you know how to use it?”

“Shut up,” Lance shoved Keith playfully. “That’s what I get for caring about you.”

“You know,” Keith said, settling deeper into the sand, “If anyone should be getting asked if they’re okay, it should be you.” His eyes cut to Lance, the color so dark and warm in the orange of the fading sun that Lance almost couldn’t bear it. Keith wasn’t entirely sure he should do this, he wasn’t good at caring for people after all, but after seeing how Lance had reacted to Lotor that first day Keith thought he ought to reach out to him. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Keith, sprawled on the sand in a tight swimsuit, the shadows and light carving his muscles and suffusing him in a warm glow, was asking Lance a question that sounded like a thinly veiled innuendo. 

And instead of reining himself in and preventing the opportunity for Keith to hurt him, Lance said, “There is one thing you could do.”

Keith cocked an eyebrow, “Oh?”

Lance leaned in, turning his charm all the way up. He didn’t know how Keith felt about him. Sure, he had a fanboyish appreciation for Lance, but that didn’t mean Keith wanted to kiss him. And Lance wanted to kiss Keith. Sometimes. Like now, when he looked so beautiful. Sometimes he wanted to punch him- and sometimes he wanted Keith to give him that flippy-floppy feeling in his belly twenty four-seven. 

Right now, he didn’t think he’d get away with punching _or_ kissing Keith. But there was something a little tamer he thought he could get away with- that he’d secretly thought about more than once- and because he wanted Keith to say yes to his request Lance pulled out all the stops.

Keith suddenly felt very out of his depth and like he might have made a bad decision. Bad in a good way. Lance had slid a hand onto his thigh, his skin looking like molten gold in the fading light. He was looking up at Keith through his thick, dark lashes, running a wet, pink tongue along that plush lower lip. Suddenly this wasn’t the Lance that slept on his couch and skipped breakfast and watched _Geordie Shore_ , this was the Lance that strutted down the runway in nothing but a bra and thong and made every man and woman in the audience want to either be him or fuck him.

Keith knew whatever Lance was about to ask him, the answer was yes, and he wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

“Would you loan me your lap for a little while?”

“What?” That was not what Keith had been expecting.

“I want to take a nap.” Lance said, biting back his grin at the way Keith was putty in his hand, “And I don’t want to put my head on the ground.” He pushed his lower lip further out, deepening his pout. Tilting his head to the side was the killing blow, “Please?”

Keith hadn’t had anything against the request in the first place, simply being caught by surprise at it, but when Lance looked at him looking like a hopeful puppy, Keith couldn’t do anything except pat his lap invitingly. 

Lance smiled angelically at him and curled up on his side, his head on Keith’s lap and looking out towards the ocean. 

Keith tried his best to not tense up as Lance laid his head down, but he couldn’t help it. Lance fucking McClain was right there, in his lap, dozing away while the sun set over the ocean on a tropical island beach. What the fuck was Keith’s life?

Lance rolled over to look up at Keith, only to be caught off guard by how beautiful he was. Keith was looking down at Lance with a frown of concentration, his eyebrows knitted and his nose scrunched. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he stared like Lance held the secrets to the universe. 

When Lance made eye contact with Keith, the shorter model immediately tried to look away, not wanting to be accused of staring (even if that was what he had been doing).

There was a huff of breath from Lance that might have been laughter, and Keith looked back to ask what was so funny. Lance’s face was slightly flushed, and his eyes looked a bit glossy. Keith frowned, unthinkingly reaching out and running a hand through the soft brown hair to check for a fever. 

The flush on Lance’s face only intensified, and Keith worried he might really be getting sick. 

“Lance are you feeling okay?” He asked.

“I-uh-” Lance stuttered, his eyes darting back and forth like he couldn’t decide where to rest them. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Oh,” Keith said, the tension draining from his frame and a soft smile suffusing on his face.

Lance groaned internally. Why was this boy so pretty, and why had he seen all the worst parts of Lance? There might have been a chance for Keith to be interested in him- after all, he had flirted with Lance at the restaurant. But then he’d been involved in Lance’s complicated relationship history.

Keith had stood up for him in front of Lotor, but he didn’t blame Keith if he stopped being interested after realizing just how many issues Lance came with. It had been one thing telling Keith about his past with Lotor, another entirely to see it come back to haunt him personally. Lance resigned himself to never standing a chance with Keith. The guy was beautiful, kind, and endearing. He could have anyone he wanted, so why would he ever want Lance?

As Keith looked down at Lance, he wondered if Lance had been serious about the flirting that had gone on at that date- and if that date had been a one off thing, or if it was serious. Keith knew Lance flirted with anything that moved, and Keith also knew that Lance didn’t mean any of it seriously. He let himself imagine, for a moment, that Lance had been serious. That he did want Keith. While Lance was insufferable sometimes, and sometimes Keith couldn’t stand him, the rest of the time Keith thought he was one of the most beautiful, amazing people he’d ever met. And so of course Lance would pair up with someone equally breathtaking, not some no-name new talent like Keith. He huffed, frustrated at the idea.

Early the next morning, the six were on a plane and heading back to L.A. Shiro and Keith were seated next to each other, heads on top of each other and snoring softly while Allura and Lance shared space and a coffee.

“You’re awfully chipper this morning,” Allura commented. “But Keith seems absolutely normal, which must mean you’re over the moon at insignificant progress.”

Lance nearly snorted his coffee. “What insignificant progress? There is no progress! I’m not trying to get anywhere.” He took another sip and muttered, eyes on the plastic lid, “Besides, we both know there’s no chance anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll need to spoon feed yourself that ending one sentence at a time it's so tooth-rottingly sweet.
> 
> Lots of the dialogue in this is just copy and pasted from Skip Beat!'s beach arc. If you want to see these scenes acted out in glorious early 2000's shoujo manga art style, check out chapters 79-99!  
> Please feel free to let me know what you thought, what you liked and didn't like, and where you think it's going from here. Comments make me feel validated as a person and a writer, so I like them!（。＞ω＜）ｼ。


	17. Goth Loli Spikes and Polka Dots Teddy Negligee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk Lance and Plaxum settle in for some good old fashioned gossip, and Keith gets to embrace a new... cuter... side of modelling.  
> (Also Keith and Matt interact with each other and it's one of my favorite scenes I've written so far :D:D:D )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm posting late I was at a local arts fair all day. 
> 
> ALSO I didn't realize how bad the men's lingerie situation is until I actually started researching stuff for this fic, but like. Men need good sexy underwear too. #mensundiesrevolution2k17
> 
> Note July 3 2018: Illustration of Keith's outfit at the end of the chapter!

With two seasons of Voltron photo shoots out of the way, all the models were slowly returning to their other contracts and ventures. Shiro had enjoyed his fling with the spotlight, and was looking forward to seeing the Voltron ads he featured in- he wasn’t narcissistic, he just… had a healthy self-esteem. But as much as he’d enjoyed the flurry of Voltron modelling, he was also glad to be home again.

Matt had waited at home alone for him the entire time Shiro had been gone, and the two were happy to be back together. When Shiro had walked through his door, he hadn’t even managed to get out as much as a hello before Matt had begun prying his clothes off and kissing his newly-tanned skin. 

It turned out Matt loved the videos and photos Allura had sent him throughout the week. He’d loved them _a lot_ , and was very insistent on showing Shiro just how much. Not that Shiro was complaining.

Nearly a week had passed since the beach trip, and Shiro and Keith hadn’t managed to see each other since they’d gotten back. However, Keith was supposed to be coming over this morning, and Shiro was looking forward to seeing his brother again.

Shiro was standing in the kitchen of his apartment, morning sun drenching everything in good, clean light when Keith’s knock came at the door. Matt was sitting at the kitchen table watching his partner sprinkle baking soda inside his mugs to remove the tea stains but at the sound of the door he got up. 

“Hey, Keith,” he greeted, eyes trained on the box of donuts in the boy’s hands.

“Hey, Matt,” Keith replied, handing the box off and ducking out of his jacket and bag, leaving them at the entryway along with his shoes.

“Keith!” Shiro turned from his work at the counter to greet Keith with open arms and dirty hands, something that didn’t even cause Keith to hesitate when he moved to accept Shiro’s hug.

“You smell weird,” Keith said, voice muffled because his face was smooshed into Shiro’s pecs.

“Yeah,” Shiro chuckled, “It’s all the baking soda.”

Keith looked suspiciously at the few dozen tea mugs spread out on the counter, inspecting them hesitantly and with an almost inappropriately large amount of trepidation.

Shiro just smiled fondly at his brother’s antics and went to sneak a bite of Matt’s crueller. When Keith had deemed the deep-cleaned mugs mundane enough to not warrant a threat, he turned around to Matt and said, “So. Got any plans for the day?” His voice was low, and the challenge in it was loud and clear.

“No, not really,” Matt’s whole demeanour changed, an air of seriousness coming over him as he stared down the younger. “Why? Did you have something in mind?”

“Oh yes,” Keith said, making to move for the living room. “We have unfinished business.”

“Are you sure you want to challenge me again?” Matt asked, eyes narrowed.

“Afraid I’ll win?” 

Fifteen minutes later Shiro had brewed a pot of tea for the donuts, and Matt and Keith had a battered game of Battleship set up between them.

“E6.” Matt’s voice was absolutely void of inflection.

Across from him, Keith hissed, shock evident all over his face. “Hit.”

Matt winced, while Keith leaned in to study his view of his opponent’s field. “Mmmmm….” he said, “B~eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…. Seven.” 

“Miss,” Matt replied almost immediately.

“Seriously?” Keith muttered under his breath. As he sat back and waited for Matt to take his shot, his phone started to vibrate next to him on the table.

“I’ll be right back,” Keith said after checking the number, “It’s Allura, so it’s probably about work.”

As soon as he heard the click of a door, Matt said to Shiro, “Did he do it again? Are they all in the middle?”

Shiro, without even turning around to check Keith’s board, said, “You know they are. Keith puts all his ships right next to each other in the smack-dab middle of the board every time.”

Matt winced, sitting back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. “It almost makes the game harder, in a way, having to pretend not to know.”

Shiro turned to face him, crossing his arms and smiling, “You know it would crush him if you just shot all his ships straight away. And he’d sooner quit playing Battleship than admit his time-tested strategy doesn’t actually work and is only a strategy because we pretend not to know about it.”

Matt shook his head, staring after where Keith had left. “What if he ever plays against someone who isn’t us?”

“Well,” Shiro began, “I think he might win the first couple games… but after that…” he trailed off as Keith reentered the room.

“Hey bud,” Shiro said, face bright and giving no indication of what their previous conversation had been. “What did Allura want?”

Keith gave Shiro a small, proud smile. “She’s got my next job.”

~~~

If there was one thing Lance didn’t like about the beach, it was the havoc the salt water played on his carefully curated body. The whole of his first week back from the beach had been spent in and out of spas and beauty parlors repairing the damage to his hair and skin.

Today was the last of Lance’s beauty appointments, a mani-pedi scheduled at his favorite nail salon. This had been one of the appointments he’d been anticipating all week because his good friend and wonderful beautician Plaxum would be keen to listen to all of the drama that had happened during the beach shoot. Lance and Plaxum were going to do some good old-fashioned gossip and trash-talk, and Lance couldn’t wait.

His nail appointment was scheduled for twelve o’clock, and at twelve fifteen he walked in, late, with Starbucks. Hunk followed after him, staring at the huge wall of nail polish behind the counter while Lance took off his sunglasses and said, “Last name McClain, I have a noon appointment with Plaxum.”

The secretary double-checked on her computer before smiling and saying, “Of course, right this way.”

When Plaxum caught sight of Lance she rushed to embrace him with a kiss to each cheek and an effusive hug. As she settled him in a massage chair for his foot soak, she told Lance to spill everything that had happened while Lance was away. Needing no further prompting, Lance told her everything in gloriously sordid detail while she hung on his every word.

“God, Lotor is such a douche.” Plaxum concluded solemnly, pulling Lance’s hands out of their warm rose water bath and using an orange stick to push back his cuticles. 

“What else is new?” Lance said offhandedly.

“Your feelings for Keith.” Hunk replied from his position in the massage chair beside Lance. He casually flipped his page of _Cosmopolitan_ , looking up over the top of the magazine to give Plaxum a pointed look. “Lance is conveniently skipping over how his newest crush and self-proclaimed rival came to his rescue.”

Dishing Lance’s romantic life to Plaxum was the entire reason Hunk had invited himself to Lance’s nail appointment, and he was so not letting Lance off easy.

“Oh?” Plaxum looked up at Lance curiously, who was glaring at Hunk.

“He didn’t _come to my rescue_ ,” Lance protested, waving his free hand. “I was handling it!”

Hunk snorted. “If you call punching Lotor when he made a move on Keith _handling it_ , then sure, you were handling it real well.” He snapped the magazine’s pages disapprovingly.

Plaxum gushed, loving the drama she was hearing, “You _punched_ him? Because he made a move on your guy?” She squealed. “I didn’t peg you for the macho possessive type, Lance!”

“Oh, trust me,” Hunk said, “For Keith, Lance would be whatever type he wanted. If Keith said he liked bad boys Lance would probably go out and get an anarchy tattoo and like seven piercings that same day.”

“I would not!” Lance squawked, one of his feet jerking out of the soak and sending droplets spraying in Hunk’s direction.

Plaxum put aside the orange stick and began massaging nail oil into Lance’s cuticles, “Lance, tell me more. What kind of guy has got you this wound up?”

“Well,” Lance looked over at Hunk to check if he was waiting to poke fun at Lance. Seeing that his friend was studiously looking at his _Cosmopolitan_ , he said, “Well, Keith is… attractive. I’ll give him that.”

Plaxum nodded encouragingly.

“He’s infuriating, sometimes, but he can also be unexpectedly nice.” Lance leaned in conspiratorially. “He and I actually got off on the wrong foot-”

“That would be an understatement,” Hunk cut in.

Lance shot a glare at him but Hunk still had his eyes trained on his magazine, so Lance continued. “He’s- he’s pretty great. I actually really like him. Not that I’d ever tell him that. He’s kind of full of himself.”

Plaxum giggled and pulled Lance’s other hand to her. “What’s he look like?” She asked.

“Well… he’s- he’s got these big, dark eyes?” Lance started, unsure of how he really wanted to describe him. At Plaxum’s encouraging nod he continued, “They’ve got this purple tint to them, and it makes it look like… Like space. Like the night sky is right there, in his eyes.”

Plaxum sighed dreamily, “Eyes like a night sky…” she said. 

“You mean black.” Hunk said. “He’s got black eyes.” While the magazine hid the lower half of his face, the mirth in his voice let them know Hunk was sporting a very self-satisfied smirk.

“No one asked you, Hunk.” Lance said defensively.

“You’re right, you’re right.” Hunk flipped a page again, “I apologize. I’m shutting up now.”

Lance stuck his tongue out at his friend before turning back to Plaxum. “Anyway. He’s got nice eyes. And nice skin. And fuck girl, he’s got such a chiselled chest, like. Keith is a dancer, and you can totally tell because he’s got the abs to prove it.”

Plaxum’s eyes were sparkling, “Is he tanned?”

“Oh no,” Lance shook his head, “He’s got skin like fine china, it glows like mother of pearl, and it’s the most beautiful shade of ivory-”

“Keith?” Hunk put his magazine down, foregoing any pretense of not listening, “Keith is pasty as fuck, I’m sorry man but- he looks like milk.”

“Okay, look!” Lance exclaimed, “Do I talk about your crushes this way?”

“So he admits it’s a crush,” Plaxum said deviously.

“Ugh- that’s not-” Lance fell back in his chair, hiding his face in his hands.

“Lance, I thought we’d already established you had a crush on him, why are you being shy now?” Hunk asked.

“Yeah, I mean, I think he’s hot.” Lance took his hands away from his face to waggle his eyebrows at Plaxum, “I’d tap that in a second if you know what I mean.” He turned to include Hunk, “And I do think he’s really nice. But the only crush I have on him is a sexual crush. If those have a more specific name.” 

The model shook his head, “Besides, he spent the entire beach trip watching me have relationship drama with my ex. And he hated me the first six weeks we knew each other. And he saw my crying face. As of right now I’d be lucky if he even returned my sexual attraction, much less any hypothetical- any other kind of feeling.”

Plaxum and Hunk shared a look, but neither argued with Lance.

~~~

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

Keith threw the photos Allura had given him back onto her desk, disgusted. The photos were from the clothing line that had contacted Allura to ask if Keith would model for them. She’d called Keith in to have a look at the garments in question, but judging by the way he’d just thrown them back down on her desk, she’d have to say he wasn’t too enthused.

“Now Keith,” she began, “I know you may feel you’ve garnered success by seizing a contract and multiple jobs within your first year or modelling, but I can assure you that you are still a very small fish in a _very_ large pond.” 

Her voice was so cold Keith felt like there was a physical chill in the air.

“As a successful model,” she continued, “You must be able to showcase a variety of styles and emotions. If you think you’ll be able to survive in this industry on sex appeal alone, you have a rude awakening in store.”

Keith’s cheeks pinked, the model feeling suitably chastened. He opened his mouth to apologize, but before he could say anything Allura held up a hand to stop him.

“I think this shoot would be a very good opportunity for you, both in terms of industry experience and personal growth.” She fixed him with a hard stare, “So, keeping what I’ve told you in mind, what’s your response?”

“Allura,” Keith said, plastering on his face the biggest smile he could, “I would be ecstatic to model for Moe Lolita Dream Fashions. Please tell them I wholeheartedly accept the job and can’t wait to see what they have in store for me.”

~~~

Keith stood off to the side, watching the photographer work with the current model. Keith resisted the urge to pick at the oversized pom-poms on the sweater they’d gotten him into, and instead tried to pay close attention to the cutesy poses she was doing. 

He’d felt out of his element since he’d arrived on set that morning. There had been donuts set out for the staff, not veggie wraps and bran muffins, and everyone working on set looked like they were wearing everything Moe Lolita Dream had ever produced. And then some. The hair and makeup girl handling Keith had been wearing a band-aid over each eyebrow, one Hello Kitty and one My Little Pony. 

When Keith had asked what had happened, she just gave him an incredulous look and said, “It’s fashion.”

She’d then proceeded to smother him in makeup. He had on a pink highlighter so fluorescent it looked like the pigment had come from an actual highlighter. And while Keith _thought_ he’d never meet a beanie he didn’t like, he certainly didn’t like this one. It had sparkly plastic threads running through it that looked like tinsel and felt like sand. 

While the entire aesthetic at the shoot had him ill-at-ease, he did have to admit it was cohesive. Every piece of clothing he was supposed to wear today hung together on one rack, and it all looked perfectly coordinated, the colors complimenting and the proportions flattering. But that didn’t do much to put Keith at ease. 

Trying to distract himself from the discomfort of his clothes, he refocused on the model, watching her poke her tongue out between her teeth, shoot peace signs at the camera, puff her cheeks out, and a million other things Keith did _not_ feel like he would be able to replicate with the same level of cuteness.

The photographer called for Keith, who moved to stand in front of the backdrop, putting his hands up in an unsure peace sign and smearing false cheer across his face so thickly it was almost painful to look at.

The camera man looked up at the shoot’s director, who just grimaced and waved a hand, gesturing for Keith to relax.

Keith dropped his peace sign and looked at the director, praying to god he was about to tell Keith he didn’t have to push for something so fake. 

“I’ll let you in on a little secret. You are not the kind of model I had in mind for this shoot.” The bright orange pom pom on his hat bobbed back and forth as he spoke. “We wanted to go classic and cutesy, but the fashion director- the lady in charge of this line,” He sighed and put one hand in the pocket of his overalls, “She said she wanted us to shake things up, and then hired you.”

He cut his eyes back to Keith. “Honestly kid? We don’t have a clue what to do with you. Or what to do with the director’s advice. So just-” he cut himself off. Keith wanted the floor to swallow him. So he hadn’t even been a first choice for this shoot. He’d been some random lady’s wild card. God this was awkward. Were they going to tell him to get off the set? To leave?

“Just loosen up and try your best.” 

Oh. That had not been what Keith was expecting.

The guy leaned back further in his chair. “I can tell you’re as uncomfortable with us as we are with you. So for right now just try what you’re comfortable with, okay?”

“Okay,” Keith responded, not going for any of the peace sign poses, but instead just tilting his head to the side and trying for his biggest smile. 

The speed at which they took photos dramatically slowed down, because Keith had to be coached into each pose, and he knew that a lot of the photos were probably trash straight from the get-go because his attempts at the doe-eyed “kawaii” stuff the previous model had done were almost embarrassingly bad.

When the photographer called for a five minute break, Keith almost wanted to cry in relief. But that would smear his purple eyeliner and weaken the glue on his fake eyelashes or something, so instead he just settled for collapsing into the chair closest to him.

The photographer and shoot director were murmuring to each other as they looked over the shots they’d gotten so far when suddenly the doors to the studio opened and a woman in an austere navy blue and cream business suit approached the two. 

“I want to see what you’ve got so far,” she said.

“Sure, Kim, you tell us what you think,” the director said, his tone a lot less inviting than his words. “As the fashion director for this whole new line, I’m sure you knew exactly what you were doing when you chose the models for this shoot, and so could provide us with tons of helpful feedback.”

Kim, who had apparently designed all of this over-the-top moe Harajuku fantasy even though she looked like a Brooks Brothers mannequin, gave the director a withering stare before moving to stand in front of the laptop and click through the photos they’d taken so far. 

When she leaned back, it was clear to everyone in the room that she was less than impressed with what she saw.

“Do you know why I specified that this model,” she gestured at Keith, who sat up straighter by sheer weight of her focus, “Must be included in the photoshoot?”

“Uh, because you wanted a change of pace?” The director replied, pom pom bobbing away.

“That’s right, Kevin, because I wanted a change of pace.” Her tone was frosty. “Because your idea for this photoshoot was the same idea that’s been done over and over by similar brands all over the world. Because I’ve finally landed a spread in a fashion magazine and another run-of-the-mill Harajuku girl is not going to cut it.”

She gestured towards the laptop. “None of those photos you took have an editorial edge. You look like you’re shooting for an online catalogue, not a fashion magazine.” 

Kim shook her head sadly, “I selected Keith Kogane for this because he has an innate bearing and carriage that is completely at odds with our line’s look. I gave strict instructions to hair and makeup for that difference to be emphasized with black nails and punk accessories. I do believe some poor assistant had to bring five different colors of Doc Martens to this shoot? And you’re not even using them?”

She fixed Keith with a hard stare “No offense but every photo you took is shit. As a model, you should know yourself. Know what it is you do and do it well. When I brought you on to this shoot it was because I wanted your angsty, brooding demeanor to provide tension with our happy-go-lucky clothes. Instead, I see you trying to mimic MiMi and failing miserably.” 

Keith nodded earnestly, “I’m sorry. Do you…” he hesitated, slightly unsure of whether or not he was overstepping his bounds. “Do you want me to take photos like normal?”

Kim nodded, “I want hair and makeup to take those false eyelashes off you, put you in some band aids and cabochons, and then for wardrobe to put some ripped fishnets under those shorts and give you your Doc Martens and choker.” She whipped her around to look at the photographer, “And then I want him shot like he’s some emo punk who managed to wander into our photo shoot, got it?”

The photographer nodded rapidly, and the director’s pom pom quivered.

Half an hour later, Keith’s hair and accessories had been changed to give the clothes a whole new feel. This time, when he stepped on set, he took poses more akin to what he would normally do. Kim stuck around to watch as the shoot director gave Keith direction, making sure her vision was carried out.

At one point, Keith crouched, elbows on his knees and hands hanging loosely between his legs, like how he might pop a squat while smoking a back-alley cigarette. The director loved that pose and told him to channel more of that vibe. So Keith did, sticking his hands in his pockets, making the peace sign but doing it with his tongue out and his head tilted back, every line of his body screaming rebellion.

Keith actually began to find himself having fun. Bringing a harder, dark edge to the clothes felt right in a way that all his previous acting hadn’t.

The art director did eventually leave, and the shoot finished up not long after. Later that same week, Allura got a call from Kimberly, the fashion director who’d requested Keith, who announced that he was everything Moe Lolita Dream fashions had been looking for. Allura found it hard to believe, but she reasoned that maybe there was just more to Keith than any of them knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that ending may feel a bit abrupt, buuut this chapter somehow ended up being one of the longest ones thus far? I blame my characters enjoying interacting with each other far too much. I hope you like the Battleship scene bc that kinda stuff is my all time fave to write.  
> In other news, wish me luck as I gear up for nanowrimo in an effort to finish this fic. I'm hoping with the boost from nano I can go back to weekly updates (god I could write the textbook on setting unrealistic goals). I also wrote a short story for my crewri class which has super cool world building, and I'm *debating* that for my next fic but oh my god let's finish this one first. (I swore to myself when I took on a writing minor I would only write for classes bc I couldn't commit to any recreational writing, but that promise lasted literally one (1) school year. 
> 
> Next chapter goes back to Skip Beat! plot, back tracking to one of the first chapter arcs where Kyouko has to be Ren's manager for a day.
> 
> Edit July 3 2018: After receiving fanart from a reader I now know how to embed photos, SO here's a [link ](http://velvetcoatedwonder.tumblr.com/image/166901895310) to Keith's outfit, or you can view it down below:  
> 


	18. Power Suit Shapewear in Slinky Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith has to be Lance's manager for a day. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This is my first chapter I've posted since I've gone through and tagged this thing with real tags, what do you think of the new look?  
> Nanowrimo is going amazingly, I'm writing every day and I'm almost to chapter 24?? I'm really hoping I can go back to weekly updates, I hate updating every other week. Also, I think this fic will end up being between 35-40 chapters and somewhere between 100-150k? Hope you're all okay with that (again with those unrealistic goals).  
> This chapter is another direct parallel to Skip Beat, even down to a few lines of the dialogue, and it's also one of my personal favorites.

“He’s just going to shadow you on location,” Allura’s voice was thick with the cold that had been sweeping across Altea’s offices. 

Lance gave a squawk of protest on the other end of the phone call. “I know you think you don’t need him Lance, but my decision still stands.” Allura said. “If that’s all,” she coughed, “I’m going to let you go. My stomach wants to escape my body through my trachea, and I think I’m about to let it.”

The line clicked, and just like that Lance was left standing in front of the multistory office building where his next shoot was, his regular manager out sick with a cold and the substitute manager she’d chosen standing behind Lance like a little black rain cloud.

Lance stared down at at his phone, still slightly shocked, while behind him his new manager leaned forward a bit.

“Ummm… is anything the matter?” Keith asked softly.

Lance let out a sigh before spinning to face his junior co-worker, “You can go home, Keith, I’ll be fine by myself.”

“What?” Keith sounded genuinely surprised, “I can’t- Allura personally asked me to take care of you as your manager while she’s sick.” His voice dropped, a note of fear entering it. “I’m not about to say no to Allura. Besides, I don’t have any classes today or tomorrow, and I rescheduled my appointments so I could help out.” He levelled a challenging look at Lance, “You’re not going to let all that effort go to waste are you?”

“There’s nothing to take care of.” Lance’s voice was flat with a hint of annoyance, “Besides,” he added, “There’s nothing you can do for me as my manager.”

With that, Lance waltzed into the building, leaving Keith to scramble after him.

“Stupid fucking model,” he muttered. “Ego the size of Disneyland and attitude to match. I can handle being a manager. Lance fuckin’ McClain doesn’t think I can be a manager, but I bet I’d be ten times the manager he could be.”

Keith was so intent on muttering to himself that he didn’t realize Lance could hear him through the single paned sliding glass door between them.

Lance turned around, ramping his blinding idol charm up to an eleven with a blinding smile and an appraising look as he said, “Oh? Really?” 

Keith tried to suppress his full body flinch when Lance turned his charm on him. He was unwilling to back down from a challenge, but Lance was also very intimidating right now.

Lance put one hand on his hip as he looked Keith up and down, “If you insist that much,” he leaned right into Keith’s personal space, their noses almost touching. This close Lance’s eyes were startlingly blue. “Why don’t you do your best to take _real good_ care of me.” Lance’s voice was low and intimate, and Keith didn’t know whether the shivers running down his spine were from arousal or fear. “I want to see you working _so hard_ that I can’t _help_ but thank you for your services.” Keith felt vaguely weak at the knees.

Abruptly, Lance leaned back, flashing one last blinding smile, “Okay?”

Keith had a sneaking suspicion he was in over his head. But if he didn’t take this challenge, it meant proving Lance right that Keith couldn’t do something, and there was no way that was happening.

~~~

“And is there anything else you’d like to add, Mr. McClain?” the interviewer asked, concluding Lance’s latest magazine feature interview with a flourish.

Lance leaned back in his cushy leather chair, allowing the photographer to get some more shots of him in the magazine’s lounge, “No, that will be all. Thank you for providing me this with opportunity.” Lance was polished and put together, and had been completely capable of handling everything on his own.

Off to the side, Keith sat staring at a notebook from Allura entitled “Manager’s Duties” so hard it might have burst into flames.

He hadn’t managed to do a single thing that morning to act like a manager, and both he and Lance knew it. All Keith had done was stand off to the side while Lance talked to his business appointments, because unfortunately Keith didn’t have a clue what was going on.

Speaking of, it was time for him to stand off to the side again as he and Lance made their goodbyes and headed out to Lance’s next appointment. Keith made to grab Lance’s bag, but Lance tutted and waved a finger at him, “I can carry my own bags, Keith. You’ll have to do better than that if you want to act like my manager.”

Keith grit his teeth, “It’s my _job_ to do things like carry your bags for you.”

“You think Allura carries my bags? No. If you were a glorified luggage boy I’d give you a whole suitcase to carry around," Lance snorted. 

As they made to leave the building, there was an assortment of dedicated fans and paparazzi lying wait for them. Not all of them were there for Lance, multiple celebrities came in and out all day, but seeing the supermodel's face still drove the energy of the crowd to near manic heights.

Keith’s eyes went wide; he’d never seen something like this in person before. Before he could make any sort of move to respond to the situation, Lance pulled him in close with an arm around him, “Sorry about this,” Lance said, a little too smug to sound truly remorseful. “Let’s try to get out of here before you get anymore overwhelmed, hm?”

Patronizing mirth dripped from every syllable out of Lance’s mouth, and Keith was furious with himself for showing his emotions so openly. He made to shrug off Lance’s arm, saying, “I should be the one to protect you!”

But Lance just snorted and said, “If you didn’t think to call ahead and tell the security guards to clear out the crowd, you already failed at this task, mullet head.” He pulled Keith closer to him and they ducked out of the crowd.

The manager-for-the-day resisted the urge to scream in frustration.

Later that afternoon Lance had a promotional shoot for a new line of athletic wear. The only thing Keith managed to do was fall into a rack of clothes after someone asked him to move a light.

“I apologize for my manager,” Lance laughed after the shoot.

“It’s fine,” the photographer replied, ”It’s our fault for mistaking him as set crew.”

“Woooow,” Lance said, eyeing Keith, “They thought you were set crew, _Mr. Manager_.”

Keith bit back three different retorts that were all too rude to say in front of business associates. He felt like pulling out his hair. Or pulling out Lance’s.

Finally, finally the day was over and the two were heading back to Altea, Lance driving a company car because Keith hadn’t even filled out the appropriate paperwork to do so.

Keith could just feel Lance laughing silently at him, but he was beginning to see that Lance had a point- Keith had simply taken the manager job because Allura had thrown it at him, and he really should have backed off but he hadn’t and instead had been a drag for Lance all day. 

Though it felt like having a tooth pulled, Keith mumbled under his breath, “Sorry.”

“Hmm?” Lance looked over, happy face completely at odds with Keith’s demeanor, “What for?”

“You know what for.” Keith griped. “For- for thinking anyone could do the manager job when clearly- clearly it’s not something just anyone can do. Though you were a huge dick to rub it in as thoroughly as you did.”

“To be fair,” Lance replied, “Never in my wildest dreams did I think you’d fuck up as badly as you did. I was ready to give mercy to you after the huge lunchtime debacle, but by then you looked like you had the determination of someone on a revenge mission, and I was a little hesitant to get in the way.”

“I’d like to get revenge on that halogen light,” Keith grumbled, right before his stomach grumbled too, much louder. 

Lance looked up, confused. “Did you hear that?” he asked Keith.

Keith’s stomach grumbled again, obnoxiously loud and drawn out, like the death wail of an entire herd of cows. He could feel his face heating up with the bright red of a blush.

Lance looked around again before catching sight of Keith's face. He snorted, then began giggling. “Was that your stomach? Oh my god!” He broke off into a laughing fit. Keith’s face only felt hotter. After a few minutes Lance had calmed down enough to ask, “Would you like to go somewhere to eat? I kind of forgot about dinner… What do you wanna eat?”

Keith, not about to be called out for his food choices on top of an already embarrassing day failing as a manager, said, “Whatever you’d like is fine.”

Lance looked back at Keith, the mischievous twinkle in his eye unabating. “Okay then… how about frog legs?”

Keith shrieked, “Don’t be an ass, Lance!”

~~~

“Oh, so _that’s_ why you put Keith as Lance’s manager,” Hunk hummed.

Allura, from where she sat at her desk frantically typing away in between coughing fits, nodded, “I just needed someone to make sure he eats. Left to his own devices, Lance tends to just snack on prepackaged foods and only eat very late at night. Neither of those things are good for him.”

“But why Keith?” Hunk asked.

“Because Lance has a soft spot for others. If he sees Keith is hungry he’ll definitely make sure Keith eats, as opposed to realizing he himself is hungry, which he’ll just handle by eating a packet of M&M’s or drinking water.”

Hunk smirked, “Y’know Allura, you can be pretty sneaky sometimes.”

She grinned back at Hunk, nose running, “Thank you, Hunk. Could you fetch another box of tissues, please?”

~~~

“Out of all the places we could go for dinner, you pick Taco Bell?” Lance asked incredulously.

“You asked me what I wanted to eat, well this is what I want to eat.” Keith snapped back. “It’s late, I don’t feel like talking to a waitress or waiting for food in a restaurant- I want Taco Bell.”

“Keith do you not know how offensive you’re being right now?” Lance shook his head in mock disgust. “You know about my Latino heritage, and yet you would ask me to eat somewhere that has made millions ravaging the traditional foods of my people?” 

Lance had just enough sincerity in his voice to make Keith think he was being serious. “I- I didn’t even think- shit, I’m so sorry I didn’t know you felt that way, Lance, we can go somewhere else-”

“Nah it’s fine,” Lance cut him off. “I love Taco Bell. I’m just sad I won’t get a chance to change into my leggings and Uggs so I can go there looking like the white-girl stereotype I sometimes happen to embody.”

“You’ve never embodied that Lance. You aren’t a girl. OR white.” Keith bit out, hiding his embarrassment with a terse remark.

“Just because I’m not _physically_ a white girl doesn’t mean I can’t _spiritually_ be a white girl.” He looked over at Keith with a smirk, pulling into a Taco Bell drive-thru. “Or are you going to tell me how to self-identify?”

Keith just threw up his hands and fell back in his seat. “There’s no winning with you!”

Lance nodded solemnly. “The sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be,” then, turning to the menu board, he said brightly, “So, what do you want?”

Their total at Taco Bell was way higher than any two-person Taco Bell bill should have ever been, but Keith felt it was worth it.

He and Lance had pulled into some random parking lot to eat, and were now spread out on the hood of the company car, quesaritos, tacos, burritos and two Crunchwrap Supremes spread out like a king’s bounty between two Baja Blasts. Lance thought to himself that Allura must never find out about this. Taco Bell was near the top of her “No, Never, Not In A Million Years Is Lance Allowed To Eat This” list, but the act of rebellion felt good, and having Keith beside him added a whole layer of fun to the experience.

“So,” Lance began. 

Keith looked up at him expectantly, a piece of lettuce hanging out the side of his mouth. Lance laughed and moved to flick it away. Keith blushed and swallowed before muttering, “Thanks.”

Lance definitely noticed the blush. Keith was just so goddam cute. “So,” he tried again, waiting for inspiration to strike and provide him with a compelling topic of conversation. Something interesting but lighthearted, like movies or books or hobbies- “Just how big a fan of me are you, really?” 

Keith’s eyes went wide at the question, and Lance internally kicked himself for choosing one of the touchiest subjects available to him. Keith hedged for time by taking a slow sip of his drink, eyes trained on the far off LED street lights that drenched the parking lot in white.

“I mean-” he started, “I guess I’m a fan.” He cut his eyes back to Lance, “But I’m also your rival. Don’t think for a second I’m going to be content as number two in this industry.”

Lance laughed, flicking a stray piece of rice off his jeans. “Yeah, I’m curious about that too- what kind of guy gets snubbed by his idol and decides a total _career change_ is the best way to go about avenging his honor?”

Keith’s shoulder hunched in on himself, a sign of his self-consciousness. “I don’t know, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“And now?” Lance’s voice was leading, and his eyes swam in the bright artificial light of the parking lot.

“Well, now I’m here because I don’t quit halfway through.” Keith swung his legs, “And because someone’s got to keep your ego in check.” 

“I feel the exact same way.” Lance said. He gestured with the Doritos Locos Taco he held in his right hand, pointing to Keith with it as if to emphasize his point, “Consider your challenge as a rival officially accepted, because _your_ ego is the one that needs checking.”

“Really, Lance?” Keith smiled, “Feeling threatened by some mullet-haired model?”

“A _cute_ mullet haired model,” Lance said unthinkingly. “I have a monopoly on the cute market I’m not willing to give up.”

“You think I’m cute?” Keith’s blush was back, pinking the tips of his ears and nose, spreading down his neck. 

Lance rolled his eyes. “Objectively speaking? You’re amazingly hot. When you dance it’s like sex on hardwood. And when you model it’s like sex on camera. Er- wait. Not really sex, because that would make you a porn actor, but like-”

“I get what you mean,” Keith cut in. “I’m just amazed you’d be so honest with your feelings.” And his voice was a smug purr, and Lance had _thought_ Keith was flirting back with him that day in the restaurant, but right now he knew for _sure_ that Keith was returning Lance’s eye batting eyelash for eyelash.

“Hey,” Lance said, leaning back slightly and deciding that hey, fuck it, he’d already made one bad decision tonight letting himself eat Taco Bell, why not make another bad decision and flirt shamelessly with Keith? “If I see a body I like, I don’t hesitate to let them know I like it.”

“Ugh, I know.” Keith’s nose crinkled. “Your shameless flirting is one of your biggest character flaws. You should at least take a guy out to dinner first.”

“Hey!” Lance protested. “I totally did! This makes the second time I’ve taken you out to dinner!”

Keith’s mouth dropped open in a perfect little ‘o’ as he was reminded of their previous dinner, but then the mischievous grin was back on his face. “You mean to tell me you think Taco Bell take-out counts as a nice enough dinner date to merit some ass?”

Now it was Lance’s turn to wrinkle his nose. “Ew, no. Not after Mexican- even if it is fake, weird, at-least-forty-percent-real-meat Mexican.”

There was a brief moment of silence before the two broke into giggles, their bright peals of laughter echoing across the nearly empty parking lot. 

“So what do you think?” Lance asked. “I know you’re interested. And I think I’ve made it clear I’m more than willing- I’ve offered you my finest fare,” he gestured to the remains of their meal strewn between them, “Would you take this blushing maiden into your bed?” A dramatic flutter of eyelashes sealed the deal.

Keith snorted, “Maybe third try’s the charm, Princess.” Lance pouted and tried to tamp down the bright feeling that spread through him at Keith’s pet name for him. Keith looked up at him, biting his lower lip and struggling to make eye contact. He looked shyer than Lance thought he would be in this situation. “I- I’m not good at- relationships. So I don’t really want-”

Oh. Oh. Oh of course. Lance was an idiot. He’d gotten cocky and had asked for too much from Keith. He’d made it sound like these were _date_ dates- a lead up to a relationship, but Keith had apparently seen the first dinner and tonight’s flirting as a prelude to a good romp in the sheets and nothing more. 

“No, No!” Lance hurried to placate Keith. “Not like dating- just like, one and done. Just two hot guys sleeping together because they think the other’s hot. Not anything serious.”

Lance didn’t want it to be serious, right? He didn’t want to date Keith. Even if he was funny and smart and kind- _Not now Lance, stop it, don’t foster hopeless feelings_ \- Lance didn’t want to date him. He wasn’t interested in dating anyone right now. He had his career to focus on, and besides, Lance had already told himself Keith wouldn’t be interested in Lance after the ordeal with Lotor. He’d just have to repeat it to himself again. Harder this time.

But just because he didn’t want to date Keith didn’t mean he didn’t want to sleep with him. Everything Lance had said tonight still stood. He was very interested in Keith’s body. Sexually. And Keith’s- everything else- platonically. Just platonically. Firmly platonically.

Across from him, Keith watched as Lance paused for words. He’d gotten lost in the light hearted flirting of the night, and when Lance had made the suggestion they sleep together, a part of him had been ecstatic- _please, please, yes please I’ve wanted to lick a stripe up each of your legs since I first saw you walk down that runway. You’re the most attractive person I’ve ever met and I don’t know if I want to ram you or be rammed by you but either way please take me to bed please, please, please_ \- but another part had been very afraid.

Keith’s track record with significant others was nearly nonexistent, and what was there was embarrassing or hurtful. If Lance wanted to- to be with Keith, he had a right to know that Keith had never really done the dating thing before, and even his platonic relationships he was shit at taking care of. 

When Lance had vehemently denied that he was offering up a relationship, that first part of Keith withered in sadness even while the rest of him was flooded with relief. If there wasn’t a relationship attached, if it was just a romp in the sheets, Keith could get up and walk away with their relationship intact. If he didn’t mean anything to Lance, then he couldn’t hurt him. Even if that other, smaller part of him wanted to mean something. Even if it _desperately_ wanted to mean _something_ to _someone_. 

Keith sternly told himself not to be greedy. He was friends with Lance McClain, that was already more than he thought he’d ever get. He couldn't ask for more. He didn’t deserve more. He didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was brought to you by the Doritos Locos Taco, only at Taco Bell. #sponsored  
> Let me know what you think of the Taco Bell scene, did it sound realistic, did it sound in character, do you think their relationship and internal monologue sound appropriately feelsy? We're really seeing my novice as a writer as I struggle for my relationship pacing. I love hearing from you guys and reading your comments, and it's honestly so heartening to me. I know all my regular readers and anxiously await their comments and I get so many warm fuzzies when I see that you all like the chapter.  
> It's also crazy to think that this is now a long enough fic that people are like, bookmarking it to come back to when it's finished, or no longer able to read in one sitting. Is anyone still here from like, the early days? Anyone read this when it was under 25k? That just seems wild to me.  
> (Also, the line "sex on hardwood" is from an old ballroom dancing movie called "Take the Lead". That's not my line!)


	19. Pretty Bow Present Panty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO THANKFUL FOR ALL MY READERS, GUYS WE HIT 5K HITS, 400 COMMENTS, 500 KUDOS- What the heck??? So many people like this self-indulgent mess, and as a gesture of my gratitude (I'm gonna call it that but it's really just a coincidence) this is the chapter where the First Real Klance Action happens. EEEEE!!! I hope you guys like it- this is one of my favorite chapters, and I fangirled even just rereading it through today before I posted it, so hopefully you guys like it too.

Day two of Keith being Lance’s manager rolled around with no sign of coming to an end. Allura was still swaddled in blankets and curled up in front of her desk, only able to send Keith incessant reminders. 

She didn’t need to be too worried though, Lance was in for a pretty standard day parading around barely clothed for the sake of fashion. Some European designer had produced an exclusive online collection of bondage themed lingerie, and somehow Victoria’s Secret was involved and was supplying Lance- as one of their Angels- to act as a model. Keith didn’t really understand how all the networking worked, and he supposed he didn’t need to.

He just knew that someone had put Lance in assless panties with a bow that tied right over the dip between his cheeks.

Lance had just laughed when he’d seen them and said, “Got a bow on my panties ‘cuz my ass is a present!” (He’d said it like it was from something, but Keith didn’t know what.)

Keith, on the other hand, had taken one look at that lingerie sent from heaven framing Lance’s ass like it had indeed been gift wrapped for Keith and been unable to meet Lance’s eyes since. Or even look in his general vicinity for longer than a few seconds. For the sake of his sanity and his dick’s health. This shoot was supposed to go on for eight hours, and Keith knew it was _definitely_ unhealthy to sustain an erection for that long. 

Unfortunately, every outfit Lance modelled seemed to be hotter than the last, meaning that Keith was increasingly worried about being able to keep his cool in front of his- crush? Mutually-interested-in-him-sexually-partner? Guy with whom he had sexual tension that was halfway resolved but that Keith wanted more from? Honestly, Keith didn’t know what was a bigger headache, trying to figure where he stood with Lance or trying to keep himself from watching how Lance was currently standing with his legs spread and his head tossed over his shoulder to smirk at the camera. God that was cute. 

Things only got harder for Keith- literally- when they broke for lunch. They’d been shooting Lance in opera gloves and a high-waisted thong sitting spread-legged in a chair. Keith had to excuse himself on pretense of a phone call just to get away when he realized that apparently _Lance thought it was okay to just eat his lunch dressed like that_. But it was not okay. Not okay at all. Keith’s fifteen minutes of staring furiously at his erection in a bathroom stall willing it to go away were proof that it was not. 

By the time they only had an hour to go, Keith was standing in a corner chanting a sutra to himself. _You will not jack off to Lance at work, wait til you get home. You will not jack off to Lance at work, wait til you get home._

Anyone on set would have to be totally oblivious to not see that Keith was somewhat uncomfortable, and Lance was not oblivious, far from it. He’d been keeping half an eye on Keith all day after the set crew mistake yesterday, so he was aware that Keith looked increasingly grumpy, face starting to tint pink in what looked like anger. Lance thought Keith was a bit immature to let his feelings show on his face like that. Sure, everyone wanted to go home, but no one else looked blatantly frustrated like that. The model resolved to go over there and tell Keith a thing or two about professionalism just as soon as they got done.

When the photographer announced that the shoot was a wrap, Lance let himself drop the pose he’d been holding and headed over to Keith, his robe billowing around him like a boidoir dream. It was sheer black in some slinky material that felt soft and whispery against his skin, with structured tulle accents on it that echoed the lines of the harness he wore underneath. Lance loved the indolent power in the garment, and was wondering to himself if the designer would let him take this particular piece home. It was just the right amount of intimidating to wear while giving Keith a thorough tongue lashing.

Keith was roused from his inner conflict by a sudden flurry of activity on set as the crew hurried to break down and get ready to go home for the night. He looked around for Lance, only to have his heart catch in his throat when he saw the supermodel stalking towards him. Nearly every inch of Lance’s skin was open to the public, a barely-there brief and supple, black leather straps highlighting his nudity and the long curves of his body. Keith actively quashed a squeak. 

While Lance might have been trussed up and displayed like a sex kitten, the look on his face was stone cold business. He got right up in Keith’s personal space, which Keith was so not okay with because just yesterday they’d agreed that he thought Lance was really hot and now Lance was nearly naked and nearly on top of him and-

“Are you taking this job seriously at all?”

Keith blinked, forcing his mind out of his pants and into the conversation. Lance had just asked him a question. “Yeah, of course I am- I said I would be your manager, and I’m managing you right now. I have been all day. I am right now.” He hoped his voice didn’t sound funny. Keith was pretty sure his voice sounded funny.

“No,” Lance snapped, voice testy, “You’re standing here like a little black raincloud looking like you’re going to snap the neck of anyone who talks to you. I get that you’re like, tired or frustrated or whatever, but you’ve gotta stay professional. Don’t they teach you that at dance school? Smile smile smile and whatever?”

“I’m not grumpy,” Keith huffed, curling in on himself. Lance thought Keith could just act normal when he was faced with the object of his fantasies in front of him and naked in all but name?

“Uh-huh, and I’m not the world’s most beautiful male Latino model three years running. You’ve been staring daggers at the wall, your face is super flush- Oh. _Oh_.”

Lance cut himself off as the puzzle pieces clicked into place for him, dawning realization settling self-satisfied on his face. He leaned back and put his hands on his hips with a cocky smirk. “The uncompromising Keith Kogane is not immune to the patented McClain charm, is he?” He leaned in and booped Keith on the nose, “You got a little hot and bothered watching me on set over there, didn’t you?”

“I did not!” Keith protested, more a kneejerk reaction to being called out than any real desire to hide it from Lance. 

“Hey man, it’s fine. I get it.” He leaned back again, wiggling his eyebrows and his hips, looking ridiculous. “I _do_ look pretty sexy in all these chain and bondage type things.” He peered at Keith, who’d put a hand over the bottom of his face simply because he felt so overwhelmed. “Wouldn’t you agree?” He smiled sweetly.

Keith stood frozen for a moment, mute with his heart racing. Hesitantly, he nodded, two sharp jerks of his head to tell Lance that yes, he did think he looked pretty sexy. That pretty sexy was an understatement. 

Lance leaned in again, even closer than he’d been before, and slotted a knee between Keith’s legs, moving it up once in one quick, firm nudge to Keith’s straining erection. Lance’s voice ghosted over Keith’s ear, hot and wet, “Good boy.”

That time Keith didn’t manage to hold in his squeak.

~~~

Half an hour later, on their way to check in with Allura before heading home for the night, Keith had positioned himself on the far side of the elevator from Lance, watching him with wide eyes.

“Oh come on,” the lanky supermodel whined, edging towards Keith and pouting as the other edged away to keep the distance. “I didn’t even _do_ that much.”

Keith didn’t deign to reply to that, instead just huffing and turning his face away.

“It’s not like I made out with you on set!” Lance took another step closer to Keith, and leaned over so that he could look up into Keith’s downturned face. “Or is that why you’re upset? Did you want me to make out with you on set?” 

Keith hissed, and Lance’s face broke out in a grin. “So that was it, you wanted a kiss and I didn’t give it to you! Poor boy, c’mere, I’ll give you a big ol’ smooch, patented McClain technique-”

Just as he said that, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Lance had his arms wrapped around Keith’s head attempting to bring him in close, lips puckered; Keith was shoving Lance away with two hands to the face and a foot to the stomach. Their eyes both went wide when the door opened to reveal Allura and Hunk’s disbelieving faces.

“Now I’m absolutely certain I made the right choice walking Hunk to the elevator,” Allura said with a slight chuckle.

Hunk made a noise that sounded like he was dying.

Before Lance or Keith could say anything, Allura leaned forward and pressed the down button again. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt what’s happening here. You two just continue to enjoy yourselves, I’ll take Hunk to the other bank of elevators.”

The doors closed with Lance and Keith still frozen and Allura just waving like a cat with a canary.

Finally, as the elevator began moving, Lance shook himself and looked over at Keith. “Y’know,” he said sneakily, “Now Allura’s _expecting_ us to make out in this elevator.” He tightened his grip on Keith and grinned at him, “I’d hate to disappoint her.”

Keith just glared and fisted his hands in Lance’s hair in an attempt to pull him off, “What’s with you all of a sudden? You’re fine all day and then tonight you’re like- I don’t know, someone who really wants to make out or something. I don’t know.” Keith cursed his lack of imagination, but Lance was entirely too close for his brain to be working properly. Even if he wanted to make out with Lance- _which he did_ \- he wasn’t about to do it in an elevator.

“What happened was I saw a really cute boy get turned on by me. I always want to kiss cute boys turned on by me.” He turned his stunningly blue eyes on Keith, “Don’t you?”

Lance’s face was so _close_. It was _right there_ , and unlike all the other times he’d wanted to kiss him today, right now Keith was _able_ to kiss him. So what if they were in an elevator? Allura had already seen them. Keith had been low-grade turned on since that damned harness and if Lance wanted to get up in his personal space, then Keith would give as good as he got. Backing out now would be like letting Lance win, and like fuck Keith was letting that happen. Not when winning meant getting to kiss Lance.

So instead of answering his ridiculous question, Keith darted his head forward and pressed his lips to Lance’s.

It was rough, and Keith’s lips were chapped and dry and warm, and it was the best kiss Lance had ever gotten. 

He let out a little squeak of surprise, forced back momentarily by Keith’s sheer force, but he quickly regained his footing. He angled his head, enjoying the brush of his nose against Keith’s and the soft chafe of sensitive skin. He reached up to cup Keith’s cheeks in his hands and pull him in closer. One of Keith’s hands clutched at Lance’s wrists, and suddenly Lance didn’t know where Keith ended and he began.

He moaned when Keith’s tongue gave a slow drag across his lower lip, and eagerly returned the gesture. Suddenly the kiss was all damp mouths and soft breaths as they fought to swallow the distance between them. 

All too quickly, the elevator dinged again, Keith leaping away from Lance like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, eyes wide and mouth kiss-swollen. Lance thought he looked beautiful.

He chuckled as he walked out of the elevator, turning to look behind him and see if Keith was following. He was, but he looked dazed, enraptured. Lance figured he probably looked much the same. 

“Come on,” he said, loving how his voice came out a bit hoarse, loving what Keith could do to him, what he could do to Keith, “Let’s get you home.”

~~~

Fortunately that was the last day Keith spent muddling around photoshoots as Lance’s manager. Unfortunately, that was because Lance had somehow managed to catch Allura’s cold and he was now bedridden with the same sniffle. 

While Allura was very nearly better, she’d somehow convinced Keith that he was he only one available to check on Lance and make sure he hadn’t moped himself into an early grave. Lance moped stupendously when he was sick and needed attention like he needed Kleenex. Allura explained that if Keith wasn’t there to pamper a sick Lance, the boy was liable to come into the office just to make sure everyone properly knew he was miserable.

And so Keith, known for his “kind” and “attentive” nature, had been assigned to sick duty, which was why he was currently standing outside the door to Lance’s apartment, a plastic grocery bag clutched in one sweaty fist. This was the first time they were going to see each other since The Elevator Incident, and since it had only been one day Keith hadn’t really processed it beyond running his fingertips over the swell of his lips approximately a million times last night as he remembered how kissing Lance had felt. He was still just enjoying the moment, but he knew reality would come crashing in soon enough. He just hoped that wasn’t today. He wanted to fanboy over kissing Lance Fucking McClain for a little longer. Maybe like one more day. Or week. Or two weeks. And Keith had gotten lost in thought in front of Lance’s apartment and had now been standing in front of it for so long he might look a little bit like a crazy person to anyone watching.

Keith had to ring the doorbell twice before he heard any movement inside, and when the door finally swung open, it revealed Lance looking sallow and haggard.

“Keith?” He squinted in the bright sunlight, different from the gloom of the apartment behind him, and Keith caught himself thinking that Lance didn’t make an attractive sick person.

Thank god, he’d finally found out Lance had a weakness. He’d been a bit worried he’d want to kiss him again, and Allura would kill Lance _and_ Keith if they were dumb enough to swap germs, but right now Keith didn’t even wanna pull Lance in for a hug. He kinda just wanted to draw him a bath and spoon feed him soup. And stay _far_ away from that runny nose.

“Well don’t just stand there,” Lance said, voice rough and well-worn, “Allura sent you, right?” He shuffled off back into the apartment, leaving Keith to follow after him. 

Lance stood at his kitchen counter, dabbing at his nose with a tissue and looking at Keith expectantly. 

Keith stared back blankly, unsure of what Lance wanted from him.

After a few seconds, Lance gestured expectantly at Keith’s grocery bag.

“Oh!” Keith exclaimed, having totally forgotten about it, “Here. I bought things. Things you buy for sick people.”

He reached into the bag. “I brought soup,” He laid a can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup on the counter top with a clunk, “cough drops,” and he laid store brand eucalyptus cough drops beside the soup, “and medicine,” and lastly he added a bottle of Tums to his little pile.

“I-” Lance stood dumbfounded at Keith’s idea of sick supplies. “Florence Nightingale you are not.”

Keith tilted his head to the side. “What?”

Lance cocked his weight on one hip, “Has anyone complimented you on your bedside manner?”

“My what?” Now Keith was thoroughly confused. He thought he’d done all right getting stuff for sick people, but Lance didn’t seem to like it.

Lance shook his head and made for the living room, “Well at least you’re not getting false compliments,” he muttered under his breath. “Come here!” He yelled at Keith. “You know how to play any board games?”

Fifteen minutes later they were situated at Lance’s coffee table with a beat up game of Battleship set up between them. 

Lance was glaring at his little box and strategizing while Keith looked on, already having grouped his ships in the very middle and confident in this foolproof strategy.

From across the table Lance muttered, “I can’t believe you _only_ know how to play Battleship and Candyland.”

“Those aren’t the only games I _know_ how to play, they’re just the only games _worth_ playing.” Keith replied, eyes focused in on Lance’s hand movements as if they could somehow let him deduce where his ships were placed.

“There are totally other games worth playing!” Lance croaked. “Settlers of Catan? Clue? Come on man, you have to realize that Candyland is _not_ the best board game. Heck, Life is a better board game than Candyland, and Life _sucks_.”

Keith just hummed, “Sounds like what someone who’s bad at Candyland would say.”

“How are you even bad at Candyland?! Candyland requires literally no skill! It’s meant for children!” Lance’s screeching led him into a coughing fit, and he had to sit back, hacking.

“All board games are meant for children. Six and up, says so on the box,” Keith replied tonelessly. He waited until Lance’s coughing fit had passed and then said, “Are you done?”

Lance growled. “Oh, it is _on_. I’m gonna sink every one of your battleships and your attitude along with them.”

Three rounds of battleship later saw Keith having won twice, but Lance growing increasingly suspicious.

“F6,” Lance said.

Keith grimaced. “Hit.”

Lance narrowed his eyes and leaned over his board, “F7.”

“Hit,” Keith growled, “And sunk.”

Lance’s hand cracking down on the coffee table was loud in the otherwise quiet living room. “Show me your board!” He demanded.

Kerith grabbed his little Battleship game and leaned away from the coffee table so Lance couldn’t reach out and grab it. “No! That’s cheating!”

Lance stood up on his knees and reached one hand out like he expected Keith to just give it over, “You’re just putting them all in the middle, aren’t you? And you have been every time! I know it! Show me!”

“No! Battleship strategies are state secrets!” Keith protested, scooting away from the coffee table, “There’s no way you ever could have guessed!”

“I didn’t have to guess, you’re literally laying it out for me!” Lance shot over the coffee table and tackled Keith, attempting to wrestle the game away from him. 

Keith was so shocked at the sudden warm weight of Lance on top of him that he didn’t manage to move his game to safety, and within moments Lance was sitting back on Keith’s hips surveying his board.

“I knew it,” he muttered.

There was a moment of silence before Lance let the game fall to the side and started giggling, looking down at his now vanquished rival. “Hey Keith?”

Keith just grunted, all available brain power having been rerouted to memorizing every aspect of Lance sitting on him to remember and cherish for years to come.

Lance, unaware, just kept chuckling and looking down at Keith, “You suck at Battleship.”

Keith glared up at Lance, unthinkingly giving one firm shake of his hips in an attempt to dislodge Lance. It didn’t work, instead Lance just rocked with the motion, his eyes going wide as he suddenly realized the sexual implications of their position. Keith’s face lit up brilliant red as he realized what he’d just done, and he abruptly scrambled to get out from under Lance. The other boy let him, and then they were both sitting across from each other on the floor of Lance’s apartment, sexual tension thick in the air.

Suddenly, Lance gave a humongous sneeze, a healthy dose of snot coming with it. He gasped in horror at how disgusting he must look to Keith, but Keith laughed. He laughed really hard, clutching his stomach as he reached for tissues. As Lance accepted them, gingerly cleaning off his face, he glared at Keith.

“I fail to see how that was funny,” he said primly.

“Oh come on,” Keith replied, “You’re usually so effortlessly flawless, but when you’re sick you’re really… not.”

Lance, feeling like even though he’d won the game of battleship he’d somehow lost to Keith, shifted his eyes around his living room, eventually landing on the pile of abandoned board games. 

“I bet I can still whoop your ass at Candyland, though,” he said.

Keith grinned lazily, getting up to fetch the board, “I thought you said Candyland required no skill?”

“Which is why it should be a perfect game for you,” Lance shot back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEE WASN'T THAT JUST SO CUTE AGH. I CANT WAIT TIL THEY FINALLY FRICKLE FRACKLE ITLL BE SO GREAT  
> Also fun story me and my sister were black friday shopping at Victoria's Secret and she saw on the wall the Sea Dream Fantasy model and she was like "omg I drew that. I know her. I drew every stupid pearl on that bra." Writing fanfic that's concurrent with real life events is cool :D and slightly weird. I can't go into that store anymore without imagining Lance in all their display wear. Whoops.


	20. Nightie on the Town in Champagne Pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The launch party for the Voltron lines happens, and our favorite cast of characters gets up to some memorable shenanigans because of all the complimentary champagne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THIS IS SO LATE. I came home for my first day of winter break and I spent all day with my family. Finals are over, and so is nano, and bc finals kicked my butt I didn't get a full 50k but I did get 30k more which I'm happy with cuz it means we're set for biweekly updates til February (sorry I can't manage weekly updates (ᗒᗩᗕ)_/¯) and hopefully I can write some over this break. Fic writing and cosplay are my only two things to do. Well, also scholarship stuff and turning in my FAFSA but those are real life goals so whatevs.   
> TBH I'm a little excited to have time to write this again bc it's not a scholarly paper or poetry, and it doesn't have to sound perfect it just has to read smoothly~~~ fic writing is becoming somewhat therapeutic bc it's just a place to have fun. And speaking of self indulgent fun THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER WAS UNPLANNED. It was supposed to be one scene and it stretched into an entire chapter but I'm ok with that bc this is the chapter where Matt and Allura meet each other and it might be my favorite interaction in this fic to date. I hope you like this chapter it's a self indulgent mess.

Allura and Coran had nitpicked every aspect of the Voltron line and finally declared it worthy of the public, just in time. The launch date was looming over Altea Corp’s head, finally just one day until it hit every major retailer in the U.S., Canada and certain select European retailers. To celebrate, Altea was holding a launch party was tonight with all of Allura’s backers and employees in attendance.

Hunk and Lance had shown up together in coordinating velvet suits. Hunk’s was a mustard yellow with blue accents, and Lance’s was a deep sapphire with matching yellow accents. They looked just this side of avant garde, like the high profile fashion-forward models they were. Keith was wearing a suit from Men’s Warehouse that Shiro had gotten him for graduation.

As soon as Allura saw him she moaned, “I can’t believe I forgot to tell Lance to dress you for tonight!” She whipped her head around to glare at Shiro, who stood behind Keith arm in arm with his partner Matt. “Did you let him out of the house wearing that?” She asked.

Shiro, who was wearing the suit Matt had bought him- and that he personally thought was too small but that Matt assured him fit just right- and had no general ideas about fashion, replied, “I think it’s a perfectly fine suit.”

From beside him, Matt patted his arm and said, “Of course you do, sweetie.”

While Shiro and Keith were left confused about what was wrong with Keith’s suit, Matt and Allura oved to introduce themselves to each other.

“It’s so nice to finally meet the lovely lady behind that beach video of Shiro,” Matt said, a smile that seemed vaguely threatening on his face.

“Oh trust me,” Allura replied, cheeks pinched by the strength of her own smile, “It was no trouble to send it to you. I only wish you could have been there to see it in person.”

There was a moment of tense silence between them before Matt gave a hearty laugh and a genuine smile broke across his face. “It’s honestly nice to meet someone who shares the same appreciation of my partner’s physique.”

Allura gave a genuine grin right back at him. “He’s honestly quite gorgeous, you’re very lucky to have him.” Her eyes went dark and her voice when sultry as she continued, “He’s also incredibly compliant, you’ve trained him well.”

“You’ve had a chance to give him orders then?” Matt asked. They both had a maniacal twinkle in their eye- the twinkle that came from being utterly shameless about the things one wanted.

“No orders, per say,” Allura replied, voice lilting, “But he is so delightfully subservient.”

Matt grinned and held out a hand, “Matthew Holt, nice to meet you. I think we’ll get along just fine.”

Allura clasped his hand, “Allura of Altea Corp, and I have to agree. I think you and I will do great things.” 

“Is that the nickname you’ve given Shiro?”

Allura hesitated, not quite getting the joke.

“Great things? You and I will do great things? Nickname for Shiro? Shiro is great things?” Matt laughed sheepishly and rubbed his head. “I gotta work on that one I guess.”

Allura’s bright laughter let him know she now understood the joke. Shiro, from his position a little ways off, looked up at the sound and froze when he saw the two together- there was no way their friendly manner was completely innocent.

Pidge, who’d just waltzed in pleasantly buzzed and regretting her heels, took in the situation at a glance and immediately made her way over to Shiro’s side.

“So what are they talking about?” She nudged Shiro with her elbow and nabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. “Negotiating visiting rights?” 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Shiro replied, “There’s no way the two of them are just making friendly conversation.”

Pidge smirked and adjusted her glasses, “So I’m gonna mark you down as scared _and_ horny.”

Shiro blushed and sputtered while Pidge continued, “If Matt and Allura become friends, it’s going to be because of a mutual appreciation for you and your,” she waved a hand at his body, “Stuff. Whatever they see.”

Matt looked up from Allura and made his way back to his partner. He laid a steadying hand on the small of Shiro’s back and made to guide him towards the buffet table. Shiro, however, did not let down his guard.

“So what were you and Allura talking about?” He hoped his voice came out steady and casual, not as breathless as he felt.

Matt gave him the same sort of smile he gave before he got on his knees, or when he told Shiro they had to buy a new bottle of lube, and leaned in close, “What are you hoping we talked about?”

Shiro gave a squeak and wondered if he’d gotten in over his head.

From across the room, Keith watched their interactions feeling vaguely uncomfortable. Seeing his brother, who’d practically raised him, be turned into a pile of quivering mush was super weird. Keith vowed to himself to never be overcome with emotion so easily.

From off to the side, Lance called, “Keith!”

Keith turned around and saw Lance strolling toward him, a flash of ankle and of collarbone the only things visible in his well-cut suit. The smile on his face was blindingly bright and utterly open, every part of him showing that he was happy to see Keith.

Keith covered his face with one hand to hide his rapid blush and wished he could do the same for his ears, but nonetheless raised one hand to give a tiny, tentative wave to Lance. 

“Keith,” Lance began, “I have one question for you.” 

In that moment there were a million questions Keith wanted to be asked, and most of them had to do with ways to describe Lance McClain’s beautiful body.

But he didn’t list any of the possible questions he wanted to be asked; instead he tilted his head to the side and politely responded, “What’s your question?”

“How do you feel about me getting you out of that suit?” 

Lance had one hand on his chin and looked deep in thought, but Keith missed his pensive expression because he was too busy dying. Lance wanted to _get him out of his suit_. Oh, this was something Keith had dreamed about- was Lance following through on the kiss? So soon? Had he seen Keith dressed up nicely and decided their one and done deal was going down tonight?- but then Lance continued.

“Because I really want to burn it as soon as possible, I don’t know how old that suit is but I can guarantee it’s never been in style.”

The silence that followed Lance’s remark lasted too long and Keith could tell his face had fallen because Lance looked embarrassed and was trying to backtrack. “No, no, wait, Keith- listen, it’s not your fault you’re bad at fashion-”

Keith had been waiting for something to ruin his good mood, a clap of thunder to knock him off of his cloud nine, and here it was. Of course Lance didn’t want him tonight. Lance might not want him _ever_. The thought made Keith’s chest ache in a way he didn’t usually associate with passing crushes, but he didn’t register that, too caught off guard by Lance’s unexpected callousness.

“Shiro got this for me as a graduation present,” Keith said, his voice small. Of _course_ Lance didn’t think he looked handsome tonight. He was Lance McClain, he was wearing a blue velvet suit for god’s sake, Keith’s off the rack black and white affair was nothing in comparison. He should’ve changed the moment Allura had said something.

“Oh.” Lance paused, seeming to realize just how tactless he’d been. “He got you a suit when you graduated from college?”

Keith stiffened, feeling like they were dangerously close to talking about his family and wishing they could just move on from his goddam suit already. He said tightly, “No, when I graduated from high school.”

Lance could tell from his voice that he’d manage to massively fuck up Keith’s evening. In the space of one comment he’d upset Keith and made himself look like an ass. God he was such a dick, Keith probably hated him and had gotten his whole evening ruined because of Lance’s inability to properly socialize- he should’ve known Keith was uncomfortable with formal wear and that this was out of his comfort zone.

The two stood in tense silence for a moment before Hunk came up to Lance.

“Hey bud,” he said, oblivious to the tense atmosphere he’d walked in on. “I was wondering if you wanted to check out the buffet? All the food- _all of it_ \- is Allura Approved, so you can eat whatever you want tonight and not fear her wrath. Not that you would anyway, Shiro’s in a suit and so Allura is _incommunicado_ for the whole evening- busy burning this event into her memory and all that.” He turned to Keith, “You look good by the way- cleaned up nice. Your hair looks good all swept away from your forehead like that, and the tie makes you look- snazzy.”

Keith gave a small grin, the warm sincerity in Hunk’s voice incapable of being faked. “Thanks Hunk,” he said, feeling slightly better. Lance leapt at the change of conversation Hunk was giving him, replying, “I would _love_ to look at the buffet table, Hunk, there are few things in life I love more than buffet tables, you know this.”

Hunk gave Lance a look that said he did indeed know what Lance loved more than buffet tables and Lance was obliged to elbow him sharply in the side as they crossed the room. They picked up Pidge on the way, who was now well on her way to being drunk, and stopped beside a buffet table full of sweet and savory finger foods. 

While Keith and Lance nibbled on some tartlets, Hunk and Pidge had discovered the cheese fountain and were now making their very best British accents as they pretended to be food critics.

“This cheese-” said Pidge, waving around her celery stick like it was a glass of fine wine, “Is it brie?”

“No no no, my dear Pidgeon,” Hunk replied, twirling an imaginary mustache and filling his empty champagne glass with the liquid cheese. “It’s definitely… another kind of cheese.”

Pidge snorted and whispered to Hunk, “You’re supposed to name a _different_ kind of cheese.”

“But this _isn’t_ a kind of cheese,” Hunk whined, “It’s just cheese that’s _melted_.”

Lance snorted and steered Hunk away from the fountain and towards the buffet table which had four or five platters each half-full set out on it. “All right Hunk, I know champagne tastes good but why don’t we get some tasty food into that stomach as well?”

“That,” Hunk said didactically, “Is the best idea you’ve had all evening.”

Pidge snorted and muttered, “Weak.” She then made eye contact with Keith, “I’m going to find Matt and challenge him to a drinking contest. Stick with Hunk and Lance.” She pointed one wobbly finger at him, “Tiny little babies like you aren’t meant to be alone at big parties like this.”

Keith wanted to be offended by what she’d said but she was gone before he could reply. 

Pidge found Matt standing with Shiro and Allura near the dance floor. The three looked like they actually might be having a somewhat serious discussion. 

“I mean it, Shiro,” Matt was saying, one hand wrapped around Shiro’s waist, “If you’re not comfortable with the idea, Allura and I will stop all of this. We know the two of us are teasing each other and you in good fun, but if it makes you feel unsafe we’ll stop.”

“Yes,” Allura added, one hand on Shiro’s forearm, “I would rather act as strangers and make you feel comfortable as a model than provide you with incessant, unwanted compliments.”

Shiro blushed and looked down at the hands on his body, both so casually possessive. “I-” his voice was timid, “I don’t mind. The attention, that is. You’re both beautiful, and I know you two would never do anything I don’t consent to, so I don’t mind if you- keep all this up.”

The blatant lust that glittered in Matt and Allura’s eyes when Shiro made his confession had Pidge gagging, and she knew she wasn’t _that_ drunk. Not yet at least. But Matt would be a good way to fix that, and she needed to break those three up before they started having sex behind a potted plant or something.

“Hey, Matt!” she called, alcohol making her a little louder than she meant, “You wanna see who can down more of whatever the hardest liquor they have at this bougie joint is?”

Matt turned away from Shiro and gave Pidge a grin, “Don’t you know it!” He looked at Allura, “Where’s the bar around here?” 

She gestured towards the buffet tables and said, “While you’re away, could I take Shiro for a dance?”

Matt cocked his weight on one hip and grinned, “I don’t know Shiro, you want to let the pretty lady take you for a spin?”

“That is truly disgusting, Matt,” Pidge deadpanned. “I need to get blackout drunk just to forget you said that.”

“Ah, shove off Pidger,” he replied, “You’re just jealous I got someone as hot as Shiro.”

She snorted as they made their way over to the bar. “Yeah, still not sure how that happened. You- a pothead nerd who was famous on Vine and did Heely tricks in middle school- landed actual god Takashi Shirogane.”

Matt shook his head and gestured to get the bartender’s attention. “Tell me about it. I wake up and ask myself the same question everyday.”

Lance and Keith watched as Shiro and Allura took to the dance floor, the two of them almost laughably awkward as Allura attempted to lead Shiro. They were having fun, but it was clear neither of them knew what they were doing. Lance saw the opportunity to clear up the awkwardness between him and Keith and leapt at the chance.

Lance turned to the boy beside him, “Hey Keith.”

Keith hummed uninterestedly, still mostly focused on Shiro and Allura.

“Why don’t we put my dancing skills to use and show them what it really looks like?” He grabbed Keith’s hand and tugged him towards the dance floor. “I didn’t spend all those weeks stepping on your toes for nothing.”

Keith sputtered and tried to resist, “Lance, this isn’t even salsa music, and neither of us are wearing ballroom shoes, and you’re so much taller than me-” but he found himself out on the dance floor all the same.

It was like all the weeks that had passed between Lance’s last lesson and now just hadn’t happened. For all that Lance had started with two left feet, he’d ended up really good, and he followed Keith’s lead fluidly and gracefully across the dance floor. Lance’s face smiling brightly down at Keith brought out a small responding smile in the other model. He found himself spinning Lance, dipping him, and the dance floor even cleared out a bit as people moved away to give the experts space. Even if Lance had started the night by putting his foot in his mouth, now he was giving Keith a fabulous time, and the smaller model couldn’t help the pink blush spreading across his cheeks or the timid smile spreading across his face.

Off to the side, Shiro and Allura were joined by Matt, who had proven himself to his sister and now wanted a victory dance with the love of his life. 

However, he knew better than to interrupt what was happening out there, even in his drunken state. Anyone could see that Keith and Lance were having a moment, Lance utterly taken in by the man spinning him around the ballroom and Keith staring at Lance with a telling softness in his eyes.

Matt turned to Shiro, one hand heavy around his partner’s waist and his breath warm on the shell of Shiro’s ear, “Do they not know that it’s mutual yet?”

Shiro chuckled and shook his head. “I think they both see themselves as unworthy of the other.” At Matt’s confused stare, Shiro struggled for a phrasing his drunk boyfriend would understand. “They each think the other’s out of their league.” 

Matt’s whole face lit up in realization before clouding again with frustration, “But they’re in _love_ Shiro. Almost as in love with each other as I am with you.”

“I don’t know if it’s _love_ , but it’s definitely some kind of mutual feeling,” Shiro chuckled, overwhelmed with fondness for the drunk mess of a man in his arms, “But they don’t know that yet.”

Matt snorted and leaned into Shiro’s chest, “It’s love, definitely love, but they’re both stupid, so they won’t realize for a while- oh Shiro, they’ll take _so_ long.”

Shiro could only nod and rest his chin on Matt’s hair. “I know, it makes me sad, too.”

As the party wound down Shiro headed out, struggling to keep Matt from undoing the buttons on his shirt. He was lucky Matt was so drunk, otherwise Shiro wasn’t sure he would’ve made it into the taxi still appropriately clothed. At one point as he was hustling Matt towards the door Allura distinctly heard him say, “Just wait until we’re at home, Matthew, then I’ll undress as quickly as you like and even let you do that thing with the tie.”

Allura was intensely curious and made a mental note to investigate what presence ties had in Shiro’s sexual escapades.

Hunk ended up going home with two of Lance’s Victoria’s Secret Angel friends, one on each arm. As he left the coat room Lance gave him a cat call and yelled, “Baby got lucky!”

Hunk, not even blushing, just looked over his shoulder at Lance and yelled back, “You wish you were getting lucky like this!”

Keith, who was standing next to Lance, promptly flushed the color of a tomato.

Lance volunteered to take Pidge home, and roped Keith into helping. They each took an arm and prepared to walk her to a waiting taxi, but as they were heading out Allura stopped them and said, “I need you two in the office tomorrow afternoon with a weekend bag packed.”

Keith and Lance glanced at each other with matching looks of confusion before turning back to Allura.

“What for?” Lance asked.

She gave them an excited grin. “I’ve been invited to guest judge on Project Runway and promote my line, and you two are going to be guest models in the menswear challenge.”

Lance gasped and almost dropped Pidge he was so excited. “Allura, how could you not tell me this sooner? You must have known for months and you’re only telling me _now_? You know that going on Project Runway was one of my dreams when I was just starting out. Oh my god I’m so excited.” He turned to Keith, eyes practically sparkling, “Keith, we’re going to _model on Project Runway_. I’ll get to talk to Heidi Klum. Wow. And look at Zac Posen in person. And get to watch Nina Garcia insult someone while I’m not even five feet away.” Clearly this was some kind of fashion themed reality show that Lance was a huge fan of, but Keith didn’t know what he was talking about, even as Lance continued to gush and ended by saying, “This is a dream come true!”

Lance finally seemed to catch on to Keith’s lack of enthusiasm. “Don’t tell me,” he started, “you don’t watch Project Runway.”

Keith shook his head. “I’m guessing it’s a reality TV show? Like Geordie Shore?”

Lance shook his head, “Project Runway makes Geordie Shore look like horse shit- which it is but that isn’t the point.”

He turned his head back to Allura and hitched Pidge higher up on his shoulders, “You can bet I’ll be there, with Keith in tow.”

She smiled, “I knew you’d be excited- keeping it a secret was the right choice. Get home safely you two, and watch your email for more information!”

The three stumbled out into the night, Pidge mumbling incoherently to herself while Keith and Lance did their best to keep her steady. 

Halfway to an empty patch of street where they might be able to hail a taxi, Pidge tugged on Lance’s arm and muttered, “I don’t feel so good.”

Lance just managed to face her towards an alleyway before she was barfing her guts up on the city sidewalk. Beside him, Keith wrinkled his nose in distaste. 

“Hey,” Lance said, looking over at Keith while he ran a soothing hand over Pidge’s back. “I know I kind of already did this, but I’d like to apologize- seriously apologize- for saying shit about your suit.”

Keith, taken by surprise at the sudden subject change, paused for a moment before replying, “I wasn’t even thinking of it anymore. I knew you didn’t mean anything serious by it. You’re okay.”

Pidge reared her head up and wiped off her mouth with the back of her hand. “I think I’m good guys.”

She clearly hadn’t heard a word of their conversation, and Keith and Lance took a moment to share a fond look of exasperation between them. But then Pidge swayed again and said, “On second thought, maybe not,” and then whirled back to the wall for a second round of retching. 

Keith surreptitiously took a couple of steps away. Lance continued, wanting to make sure he assuaged any lingering insecurities he’d inadvertently given Keith, “It’s cool that Shiro got it for you, I know that family gifts can be way nicer than any designer goods. So. My bad, dude.”

Keith nodded twice, jerkily, and shoved his hands in his pockets, “It’s fine. You didn’t know. Can we just agree to forgive and forget?”

Pidge groaned and stood upright again, “For what it’s worth I _know_ I won’t remember anything about this tomorrow.”

Lance just snorted and hooked one of her arms over his shoulders again. “Already forgotten, Mullet head.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you don't mind this chapter kinda took a break from moving things forward and was all just one continuous scene. Chapters 19 through 21 are all just kind of cracky and fluffy but those were what I wrote during the semester so it makes sense they're all super escapist and just silly escapades.
> 
> !Couple of housekeeping notes!  
> The next december update will be a real chapter, and then on Christmas I'm HOPING to do a one-off bonus chapter that's kind of a stand alone thing. Depending on how cracky it is I may post it as a separate, independent extra, not a chapter, so subscribe to my author page if you wanna be notified for it.   
> Also!!! I'm thinking of doing a personal Christmas advent for my sister (and by thinking I mean I'm doing it but it'll probably be ten-ish 1k one shots instead of 31 days of prompts). Those are going to be posted like, as soon as I write them starting maybe tomorrow if she and I can get our shit together, so that's another reason to subscribe to my author page if you'd like more things to read. (there's a real possibility that one of those one shots might end up being my next long fic)
> 
> Leave a comment with thoughts on the party, thoughts on updates, or thoughts on life in general, I love hearing from you guys so much it 10/10 helps my self esteem more than anything else besides clear skin.
> 
> *the scared and horny line is from SNL, but Pidge is a memer so you know she knows it and I had to give it to her


	21. Faux Calfskin Buttery Soft Garters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura's been invited to advertise Voltron's launch on Project Runway, and Keith and Lance both get to feature as models in an episode that takes fashion off the farm and onto the runway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I have to say is that I watched the latest season of Project Runway and then went hey does anyone remember that ep in season three when they went to a farm? And then this happened. I didn't know it was a lifelong dream of mine to write Tim Gunn but it was and doing this was a dream and I love him and this chapter and I hope it's okay.

Lance’s idea of a weekend bag was a checked suitcase and a carry on that was one inch shy of also being checked. Keith had brought a backpack. 

Allura also had a checked bag, but her carry on was little more than a purse, so Keith felt she was justified in her baggage choices. She was also conducting a lot of business meetings, so she needed more clothes than Lance did. Allura was flying out with Keith and Lance, but her first two days in the city were not going to involve Project Runway. She’d instead filled them with business meetings about Voltron.

Keith was slightly huffy about this whole affair. He didn’t appreciate the short notice (again), and it was by the grace of higher powers that he’d only had to cancel one class. Even beyond that- he just wasn’t excited to be featuring on reality TV. Allura had told him this was an amazing opportunity, and Lance was the most excited Keith had ever seen him, but Keith couldn’t help but feel very out of his element. 

He’d never actually walked a live runway before, and while he'd taken modelling classes with the Galra that had included how to catwalk, he felt far from comfortable debuting his runway strut on national television- and in front of Lance. Unfortunately his nerves manifested by making him look more dour than ever and that combined with his natural reticence to make Keith look very unapproachable and, to the people around them, intimidating.

Arriving on set for the first day of filming saw a very excited Lance and a very trepidatious Keith. A slightly frazzled looking producer took a moment to thank them for coming and then began explaining to them what was going to happen. They’d go through hair and makeup and then wait on set- which in this case was a fallow potato field- to be presented to the designers. Lance practically threw himself into the makeup chair and immediately began making best friends with his stylist, while Keith sat so stiffly in his own chair that he might have been a mannequin instead of a model.

Most of the other models looked a lot like Lance- smiling, at ease, very _very_ tan. Keith felt like an entirely different genre of model altogether- like someone had asked for a football team and gotten a theater kid thrown in the mix. He hadn’t felt this unsure of himself since he’d been a model for the Galra. Keith was almost glad when they were done with his hair and makeup, even if that meant he just got to move onto wardrobe. He noticed that he’d spent a lot less time in the chair than some of the other models. A lot of them had arrived before him and yet still hadn’t left. He wondered if the makeup artist had figured that no amount of makeup would make him look like the others and just let him move on.

As soon as Keith followed his assistant into wardrobe, the mood of the makeup room shifted. Several of the models and makeup artists turned to Lance.

“So,” began one blond haired, blue eyed beach boy, “Was that Keith Kogane- the model scouted by the Galra only to break it off for Altea’s newbie fashion line?”

Lance nodded, eager to gush about how far his fellow model and rival had come in so little time, completely unaware of Keith’s severe case of nerves. “Isn’t he just as beautiful in real life as in his ads? It’s completely unfair.”

The makeup artist who’d worked on Keith cut in. “His skin is so perfect, it’s ridiculous. I literally just had to add some powder and highlight.”

“He looks just as mysterious in real life as he does in his work,” one of the other models sighed, “You don’t see that very often, it’s refreshing.”

Lance laughed, “He’s just acting that way because he’s shy. Keith is actually kind of awkward when he’s at ease.”

The first boy spoke up again, “So how long have you two been dating? Was it hard to get him to say yes?”

Lance sputtered, “We’re not actually dating,” he hedged, wanting to hide just how hard he was crushing, “Don’t get me wrong, I would tap that in a second, but like I said, he’s super awkward and annoying and impulsive, and he could date someone way better than me.”

Lance sent a silent apology to Keith for saying things about him, even if they were true, and tried not to feel too disappointed by the truth of his last statement.

“Well even if he didn’t want to _date_ you, there’s still no way that he wouldn’t turn down a quick romp in the sheets,” the beach boy replied, “You should totally try to tap that.”

Lance nodded and turned to face forward in his chair, “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

This sort of dressing room gossip made him uncomfortable for a million and one reasons, and he knew enough to spot when a conversation was going too far. He was grateful when the models took the hint and let it go. 

When Lance was deemed ready he was sent off to the muddy field where the models would await their designers. All the models were in potato sacks and rainboots, and Lance stepped onto the field fully prepared to make fun of Keith for looking ridiculous, but unfortunately Keith looked unfairly good. The burlap sacks didn’t have sleeves, and so Keith just looked like he was wearing a muscle tee and shorts. And because he _apparently _pole danced Keith’s thighs looked like they could crush Lance like a walnut. A very scared, aroused walnut.__

__Lance moved to stand next to next to Keith, deadly thighs or not, because he knew there’d be a special blurb about them being featured models. Sure enough, he’d barely been there for thirty seconds before Tim Gunn, one of the hosts and a mentor-slash-consultant for the other designers, and a different producer that looked equally frazzled, came over to them._ _

__Keith had watched Lance approach and all he could think was that Lance’s designer would have an easy time of it because Lance was literally in a potato sack but he still looked ready for the runway. He found himself wondering how Lance’s legs looked like he was still wearing high heels when he was actually wearing rain boots._ _

__When an old guy in a suit way too nice to be anywhere near a farm and a girl with a headset came over, Keith was prepared to be told they were about to start shooting. Instead, the man opened his mouth and said, “Keith, Lance, I am so glad to meet you two, and let me congratulate you two on Voltron’s success.”_ _

__Lance grinned, and Keith was pretty sure he was the only one who caught the subtle tremble in Lance’s voice that meant he was holding back tears as he replied, “It is such an honor to finally meet you. I’m just sorry it has to be with me in a potato sack.”_ _

__“Not at all, you look stunning, Lance,” Tim replied effusively._ _

__Before they could converse any further, a guy in a headset ran across the muddy field yelling, “Stations everyone! Designers are coming in t-minus one minute!”_ _

__The producer leaned in to hiss a few quick words at Keith and Lance about which camera to look at when Tim introduced them, and then the director was shouting for the cameras to pan across the models and the designers._ _

__The designers clearly hadn’t known they were coming to a farm, as evidenced by the stiletto heels on no less than three of the female designers. Keith took a quick glance around him and saw the other models posing with wide smiles on their faces. Keith attempted to do the same, widening his hips and cocking his head back to throw a slight smirk at the designers standing before him. He was gratified with a slight blush from one tall, dark haired man._ _

__Tim Gunn was welcoming the designers and explaining today’s challenge. He reiterated that this season’s theme was double trouble, and so every challenge had two elements to it. This one happened to be both menswear, and an unconventional material- they were to design a flattering look for their male model out of burlap._ _

__Many of the designers visibly groaned when they heard burlap, and the trepidation on some faces when seeing the male models deepened into downright fear. Lance almost wanted to feel sorry for them, but he knew that more than the challenge being hard for the designers, the drama that was going to go down in the work room would be what killed some of these people’s designs._ _

__As Tim was explaining the challenge, he was interrupted by a loud moo from a cow that had wandered up to the fence around the field. Everyone on set laughed and the director made a gesture for Tim to continue. The moment would make a good candid shot. However, Tim only got about one sentence further before the cow mooed again, trying to push against the fence and get at the model closest to her, Lance._ _

__“Cut!” The director called. “I love the cow, but she’s gotta go.”_ _

__One of the assistants ran up and shooed her away from the fence, and while she did move out of the way of the stage hand, she refused to leave. She kept mooing, her entire body angled suspiciously towards Lance. Keith scowled. He was already getting beaten out by all these blond meat sacks, but now there was some _literal_ cow trying to get Lance’s attention?_ _

__The director turned to another assistant and muttered, “Try getting a farm hand to come and take her back to her barn.”_ _

__The runner nodded and ran off in search of a cow wrangler. In the meantime, Lance wandered over and started cooing at the cow, who ceased mooing and was gazing up at Lance adoringly. Keith never thought he’d sympathize with a bovine, but right now he knew exactly how that heifer felt. Blessed._ _

__The farm hand that eventually appeared put a length of rope around the cow’s neck and walked off with her like she was some kind of oversized golden retriever. He’d called the cow Kaltenecker, and so Lance was tearfully calling after, “I’ll come visit you later, Kaltenecker! Bye bye, you beauty!”_ _

__Keith tried not to pout. He wished he could be called a beauty._ _

__Lance was herded back into his spot, and then the director called for the scene to continue. Lance heard Tim Gunn say Voltron and he was quick to share a glance with Keith before throwing a blinding smile to the camera men and the designers, along with a cheeky kiss. Keith just nodded. What an emo, Lance thought. They really needed to work on his stage presence. Kaltenecker had been charming and effortless, Keith could take lessons._ _

__With the Voltron sponsorship and all the rigamarole for the audience’s benefit out of the way (as well as Kaltenecker safely removed from Lance’s sphere of influence) the show could finally get down to business. Tim pulled out the dreaded button bag, a way for him to randomly draw which designers got to pick their models first._ _

__Lance was snatched up by the very first designer chosen, an uptight man who looked to be about in his thirties and was wearing a black turtleneck-hoodie combo with a grey pocket. Tim introduced him as Slav, and Lance squealed and ran over to him like they’d been best friends since birth. It still amazed Keith that Lance was able to summon that level of enthusiasm for anything in his life._ _

__Keith was one of the last ones to be assigned. He felt like all his suspicions had been confirmed, and that he really wasn't the right model for this kind of show. He was clearly not what the designers wanted, his short height and pale skin singling him out as subpar. Lance, watching the ordeal from beside Slav, had to laugh. He saw every designer picked by the button bag look over at Keith only to catch sight of the scowl on his face and move on to a different model. Keith looked so uncomfortable, like like a moody teen dragged out in public against his will- which Lance supposed wasn’t actually too far from the truth._ _

__Keith was finally chosen though. At Tim’s call of “Sven!” a designer in a plain black tee came forward and chose Keith without a moment of hesitation._ _

__Lance noticed that this guy had been eyeing Keith from the very beginning. Judging by the biker boots Sven was wearing, he was probably some kind of punk designer and thought Keith would fit his aesthetic perfectly. Which he probably would, Lance thought grudgingly, because Keith was good at his job like that. The guy didn’t even hesitate at Keith’s scowl, and when Keith’s scowl only deepened as he stalked over to the guy, Sven had the audacity to smile._ _

__Oh man, Lance was _dying_ to know how this turned out. He also had a moment where he hoped Keith liked brunettes more than than he did their dark haired companions, because he was _not_ about to sit by and watch Keith get chummy with some upstart, no-name designer on a reality TV show._ _

__As they headed towards the vans taking them back to civilization, Lance dragged Keith by the barn to say goodbye to Kaltenecker. The cow’s head was poking out of her stall like she was just looking for Lance, and when he stooped down to kiss her snout and say hello she licked his hair._ _

__Keith took a full step back, absolutely horrified at what had just happened, but Lance just laughed and cooed over her._ _

__“Lance, step away from her,” Keith said, voice dark and low._ _

__Lance’s head shot up, responding to the urgency in Keith’s voice and expecting there to be some kind of emergency. However, when he glanced around the barn only to find it empty, he gave a puzzled glance at Keith._ _

__“Step away from her? But why?”_ _

__“That- that _thing_ ,” began Keith, “ _Licked_ you. Licked your _hair_. And you didn’t even notice.”_ _

__Lance didn’t step away from the cow. On the contrary, he wrapped an arm around her beefy neck and snuggled in close, “Aww, of course she did that, it’s because my hair smells like apples, which is probably one of Kaltenecker’s favorites. Isn’t it, Kallie? Huh?”_ _

__He turned to the cow and continued to baby speak to it, smattering her with kisses and scratching behind her ear._ _

__Keith was not only puzzled as to how Lance, primped and coiffed and perfectly groomed Lance, who had a different beauty appointment every day of the week, was not freaking out over having his hair ruined by a cow. He was also puzzled by how at ease Lance seemed with the barn and Kaltenecker in general, not just the hair licking. Keith was also feeling vaguely envious of the cow. Or jealous over Lance. He wasn’t quite sure. He was feeling multiple emotions at once, which was definitely not his strong suit._ _

__“How are you okay with that?” he asked finally, feeling like that would be the safest question he could ask right now._ _

__“With what? The cow?” Lance gave him a brief, shining smile. “I worked on a farm one summer when I was a young teen. You would not believe how sweet farm animals can be. Especially cows. I love cows so much. Especially this cow, because she’s a sweetie pie and I wish I could have her for my very own. She’s got a _bow_. A _pink_ bow.”_ _

__Keith thought to himself somewhat petulantly that he would wear a bow if it would make Lance pay him that kind of attention. Would Lance like him better if he wore a bow? Did Lance like Kaltenecker because of her bow? Oh no, this was not happening, Lance was not allowed to spend any more time with this bovine than he already had._ _

__“Lance, you cannot keep the cow.” Keith never thought this would be a conversation he would have, but here he was, defending his meager claim to Lance’s attentions against a dumb farm animal. “You live in an apartment.”_ _

__Lance frowned and patted Kaltenecker’s flank. “Yeah but- It’s not like they’re using her here. She could be my emotional support cow. Or the office mascot! She could totally live at Altea!”_ _

__There was a sparkle in Lance's eyes that meant he’d latched onto an idea, and Keith cursed as he realized Lance was now semi-serious about buying a cow for Altea Corp._ _

__“Just think, Keith, we could be the only modelling agency in L.A. to have a cow at our office!” Lance looked very proud of himself for coming up with this idea._ _

__Keith, unwilling to indulge this fantasy and still feeling slightly envious of the extreme physical affection Lance was showering on Kaltenecker, simply started walking away._ _

__“Lance, I’ll be waiting in the van. If you’re not there in five minutes, I’m telling the driver to leave without you.”_ _

__“What?” Lance squawked. “Come on, Keith, don’t be cruel! Wait up!”_ _

__

__Keith smirked to himself. Take that Kaltenecker. Lance was coming home with him while the cow stayed behind in the barn._ _

__~~~_ _

__When they all got to the work room, each model paired up with their designer and stripped down for measurements._ _

__Lance’s designer had simply stood in front of him for the past fifteen minutes muttering about which ratio of proportions would be the most beneficial for this reality. While Lance was anything but shy, he was wondering if he could slip his leggings back on so he wasn’t just standing in the nippy air of the work room in only his thong._ _

__Keith, at the table next to him, seemed to be getting pretty friendly with his designer- surprisingly. The guy- Sven- was hitting on Keith pretty shamelessly, but every line he fed him just bounced off Keith like he was a brick wall. Lance smirked. Keith responded to _his_ pick up lines._ _

__But Sven was at least taking measurements while he talked to Keith. They only had an hour for fittings, and a quarter of Slav’s time had gone by with him just standing in front of Lance inspecting him like he was a fish at market._ _

__“Hey,” Lance started, “Do you mind if I put my leggings back on while you- er, continue doing whatever it is you’re doing?”_ _

__“No!” Slav responded, his thick Eastern European accent making his exclamation even more passionate, “I need to see your bare skin in order to truly know your body!”_ _

__Lance resisted the urge to dive for his hoodie._ _

__“Why do you have to- is that-” he struggled to rephrase that in a way that sounded less creepy. “Is that your creative process then?”_ _

__Slav nodded, looking excited that Lance was showing interest in his work. “I want to take this potato sack and make it into the future! There are limitless realities possible for us, and in one of these realities you wear the outfit that allows me to win the challenge. It is simply up to me to find it.”_ _

__Lance nodded. That sounded kinda hippy new-age but hey, whatever worldview let him sleep at night._ _

__Slave continued, “I want to emphasize the lines of your body according to the golden ratios that allow us as humans to determine true symmetry and superior genes. In order to do that, I must first figure out your natural flaws and imperfections so that I know what to correct. That is what I am doing now.”_ _

__Lance pulled a face. “You mean you’ve been standing there for the past quarter of an hour cataloguing everything you can find wrong with me?”_ _

__Slav seemed to see no problem with this. “Yes! So that I can adjust my lines accordingly and hide your imperfections! Just give me another fifteen minutes to inspect you from the back and I will be ready to actually begin measuring you. I will be taking measurements in inches, centimeters and millimeters, five different times, so we really have a lot to do!” He hummed happily and gestured for the model to turn._ _

__Lance rolled his eyes, deciding that this guy wasn’t new-age hippy but rather one mis-stitch away from a mental breakdown, and turned around so the guy was getting a full view of his ass. This left him staring at Keith, who’d pulled his eyes up to meet Lance’s a second too late._ _

__“Were you staring at my ass?” Lance tried to sound accusing, but there was a tease in his voice that gave him away._ _

__Keith, from where he stood elevated on his stool while Sven took leg measurements, blushed slightly and looked away. “No. I’ve already seen your ass way more times than I ever wanted to.”_ _

__Lance leaned in close, “Really?”_ _

__He was starting to enjoy himself now. Slav might be a crazy lunatic and Sven might be hitting on his crush, but at least Keith only had eyes for him._ _

__Then Sven spoke up from where he was crouched behind Keith at his feet. He was measuring Keith’s inseam while he talked, so he looked like he was talking to Lance through Keith’s crotch. Lance felt like that was some next level alpha male posturing, and he didn’t like it._ _

__“I take it you two are pretty close, huh, to be teasing each other like that?”_ _

__A camera man had come over to capture the trio’s exchange, and Lance grit his teeth. He knew if he tried to say anything that implied he and Keith were more than friends it could be the only line to make it into final production. Then Project Runway could make Lance McClain and Keith Kogane out to be the secret, supermodel, power couple of the year and Allura would slow roast both of them over an open fire._ _

__So instead of responding to Sven’s comment that they were not teasing, they were in fact flirting, Lance smiled and said, “Yeah, Keith and I have become pretty close over this year since we see each other almost every day at the office.”_ _

__Sven smirked at Lance as he stood up, “I can really tell what good friends you are.”_ _

__Keith was looking between them like he knew there was a secret, second level to this conversation but he didn’t know what it was. Lance was about to tell Slav fuck it he could find his imperfections later and just take Keith and leave, but the camera man- which had now turned into two camera men- forced Lance to calm his temper._ _

__Instead he looked over at Keith, hoping for some backup on his close-work-friends cover story. He gave him his brightest, most angelic smile and tried to tell Keith with his eyes that if he fucked this up Allura would kill them and use their skin to make luxury jackets. “I don’t know Keith, how close would you say we are?”_ _

__Keith froze, eyes wide, like a deer in headlights._ _

__This felt like a test. Lance had his perfect, million kilowatt smile on that meant he wanted to kill someone, and Sven seemed very pleased with himself when he’d only commented that Lance and Keith were friends. Were they friends? Was that what Lance was upset about? Lance had told Keith he was cute and they’d kissed in the elevator, and they did also hang out sometimes, but most of that was for work. So if Lance only talked to him for work, and was interested in fucking him but not dating him… that would make them…_ _

__“We’re friends with benefits,” he told Sven utterly seriously._ _

__Lance choked on his own spit and Sven stared slack-jawed at Keith._ _

__“Keith!” Lance shrieked, “That is not a funny joke!”_ _

__Keith pulled a face. Okay, so that was not the right answer. Lance was blathering on about how he had a terrible sense of humor, while Keith tried to think of what else Lance would want him to say. They definitely weren’t partners or dating or anything like that, and if they weren’t friends then that would just leave…_ _

__“Coworkers?” Keith said._ _

__Lance paused in his rambling, nodding imperceptibly at Keith and silently urging him to say more. The Latino model could practically see the gears in Keith’s brain turning._ _

__“Yeah, we’re coworkers,” Keith said._ _

__Lance took Keith’s answer and ran with it, saying that he needed to stop having such a poker face when he delivered his jokes, and that really someday someone would think he was serious, all the while trying not to be hurt that Keith didn’t think they were friends._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas break is beautiful, all I'm doing is writing and cosplaying, I have the Christmas special ready to post and another one shot ready (I just have to actually format and post the thing), but for this fic I have a lot of grunt work to do before I get to the Fun Stuff, so inspiration is lacking. I'm starting the Final Big Plot Arc I had planned and it's like pulling teeth trying to get it done. uuuggh. But rest assured I got like 20 days of break left so we gon' git 'er duhn.
> 
> Also, quick note, the golden ratios thing Slav mentions is a term for how we mathematically determine beauty- there's a youtube video called "the science of sex appeal- out of your league" if you wanna know more.


	22. An Extra Festive Holiday Extra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A one off chapter that occurs somewhere in the first half of the main fic where our favorite cast of characters just let loose and have some fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY CHRISTMAS 6LICORICESTICKS GLAD YOU LOVED THIS, AND HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL MY READERS TOO!!
> 
> I could have very easily doubled the length of the board game scene bc I just love writing the characters interacting with each other, but before I knew it I was already at 13 pages and I had to cut it off. If the ending sounds rushed, that's why.

“I just want to make it clear that a skiing trip was literally last on my list of year end company trips,” Pidge grumbled from her seat in the far back row of the van. Hunk, seated beside her and curled up with a neck pillow and a snuggie, mumbled sleepily, “Duly noted.”

Keith and Lance, sharing the middle row because neither had gotten shot gun and both refused to move to the back, were each sulkily staring out their respective window. 

“And I didn’t want to share with mullet head over here, but here we are,” Lance huffed. 

“You can move at any time,” Keith said. “I’m sure Hunk would be more than happy to switch.”

“First of all, I’m not moving, if anyone’s moving it’s you. You’re not gonna scare me off. Second of all, I _can’t_ move because I have to be able to reach the stereo to make sure we have some good tunes on this ride.”

Keith pulled a face. “Are you sure everyone’s okay with _you_ controlling the music?”

Lance flashed his very best runway smile, “Do you see anyone here complaining, mullet boy?”

Keith curled further back into his seat and put his headphones in, but not without a last muttered, “Fucking McClain,” coming from under his breath.

Shiro, from where he sat behind the wheel for the first leg of their trip, turned around to give Lance his very best I’m-a-well-adjusted-adult-so-do-as-I-say smile. It was every bit as terrifying as Lance’s supermodel smirk and Shiro had the benefit of having practiced it for several years longer. “Actually, while I’m driving we’ll be listening to an audiobook- I’ve just started _Productivity for the Perpetually Overwhelmed_ and let me tell you- I think I might have been overwhelmed my entire life.”

From the very back of the van came Pidge’s voice with a thin, “Jesus christ.

Lance, not having any response to that, just nodded, and before the moment could drag on too long the passenger side door opened and Allura stuck her head in, “Has anyone forgotten anything? We’ll gone for three days, and I’ll be the first to assure you that any basic necessities you buy at the ski lodge will be ridiculously overpriced.”

“I think we’re all good to go,” Shiro said. 

“All right then,” she replied, settling in her seat and taking a long drink from her travel mug. “To the mountains!” 

__~~~_ _

_“So the number one thing you have to realize is that you can’t be the one to hold it together all the time. You need the chance to break down… Chapter six: how to handle your emotions constructively.”_

“Hey Shiro!” Lance cut in, pulling out an earbud and trying to catch Shiro before the next god-awful chapter started. Lance was handling his emotions just fine thank you. If anyone should be listening to that chapter, it was Keith, he was the one that was angry all the time, but of course he had his own headphones on and was tapping away at something on his phone. 

__Shiro paused his audiobook and glanced into his rearview mirror, “What’s up, Lance?”_ _

__“Can we take a rest stop at the next exit coming up here? I think I need a snack and a bathroom break.” With Shiro’s eyes firmly on the road, Lance took a chance and reached back to smack Pidge’s knee. She startled awake to hear him say, “And Pidge needs a bathroom break too, don’t you Pidge?”_ _

__The look in Lance’s eyes had Pidge nodding along and going, “Uh-huh, desperately, so bad, can we please take a bathroom break?” even though she was totally fine and really didn’t need one. She figured Lance must have had all he could take of Shiro’s self-help book._ _

__At the gas station, which was really more of a trucker stop, so it was a really nice, spacious gas station, everyone got out and did indeed stretch their legs. Pidge saw that they had fifty two ounce slushies, which were so big she had to hold the cup with both hands. She managed to fill it with a little of all nine flavors available before Shiro caught sight of what she was doing, so even though he gave her his very best disapproving face, she just shrugged and made her way to the cash register. Hunk patted Shiro on the shoulder and told him that he and Lance would each try to drink as much of it as they could._ _

__When everyone loaded up in the car again, Lance volunteered to drive and Pidge called shotgun, which should have been the first sign to everyone in the car that something was up, but Shiro and Allura let it happen and Hunk, knowing what was going to happen, made sure he was now seated in the middle row so that if worst came to worst he could intervene._ _

__Once they were underway on the highway again, Lance said to Pidge, feigning nonchalance, “My dearest Pidgeon, could you, in any way, pipe for us some sweet tunes? I find myself in need of distraction while I drive.”_ _

__“Why Lance,” Pidge responded, “You know I am always ready with only the finest musical selections at my disposal.” She grinned at her cohort, “I know this car has bluetooth, but I’m gonna say it anyway. Lance, pass me the aux cord.”_ _

__“You better not play trash,” he said with a grin just as wide._ _

__Not a minute later, Kahoot Christmas music was serenading the passengers with a mix of sleigh bells and electro pop._ _

Allura had less than a minute with her sleep mask and her neck pillow on before she was ripping them off to ask, “What, in _god’s name_ is this awful noise? It sounds like a Santa meet and greet at a derelict nightclub for twelve year olds.” 

__Pidge gasped, “This is only finest fare on which all public school kids are raised. This is what you listen to to get in the Christmas spirit while you’re studying for finals and trying to remember vocab words.”_ _

__From the back row, leaning against Shiro, Keith started bobbing his head, “I kinda like it.”_ _

__Shiro rolled his eyes. “I’ve been out of school so long I nearly forgot what that felt like, thank you, Pidge.”_ _

__“Listen Allura,” Lance said, “Driver picks the music. I didn’t make the rule- Shiro made the rule. And I pick this.”_ _

__Hunk gave Allura a sympathetic look and passed her Pidge’s noise cancelling headphones._ _

__~~~_ _

__The lodge was expansive and classy; no one wanted to even think about what it must have cost for Allura to get them two nights there. To their surprise however, she had them all stay in the car while she went in alone, and she came back out with nothing but a set of house keys._ _

__Seeing the confusion evident on her models’ faces, Allura explained, “I didn’t think any of us were game for more than the bunny slopes, which are a pretty fair distance from this main lodge. I got us a personal cabin right next to the bunny slopes so we can pop in and out as we please without having a long walk ahead of us.”_ _

__“Good thinking, Allura.” Shiro praised._ _

__“Thank you,” she smiled, “Now, if Lance would be so kind as to vacate the driver’s seat, I will get us to our cabin.”_ _

The word ‘cabin’ to describe where they were staying was a bit of a stretch. It was a cabin only in that it _looked_ like a cabin from the outside. It was huge, with three bedrooms and two bathrooms and a jacuzzi on the deck, and the inside was sleek and modern, nothing like the woodsy, kitschy decor that cabins usually reveled in. 

__Room assignments and unpacking went quickly, with Pidge and Allura nabbing the two full beds in one bedroom, Shiro and Keith nabbing the other, and Hunk and Lance occupying the king size bed in the master bedroom._ _

__Once everyone was settled in they made a quick supplies run to the closest general store, and after a somewhat late lunch they had a good three hours ahead of them to spend on the slopes._ _

__It turned out that Shiro and Allura had skied before, and while Hunk hadn’t he took to it fairly quickly. Pidge was faltering around like a newborn deer while Allura did her best to help her keep from falling, and Lance and Keith were pushing aside Shiro’s well meaning advice in favor of trying to push each other out of the way so they could go down the slope first._ _

__“Guys,” Shiro said placatingly, “I really think you might want to just get used to balancing and moving on the skis before you try to go down-”_ _

__“Move aside, Shiro, I’m gonna show Texas Ranger over there how we Latino people handle snow!”_ _

__This was, perhaps, not the best way to announce himself, because Lance promptly fell face first in the snow, giving Keith the perfect opportunity to say, “Get a lot of snow down in Cuba, do you? Because that definitely gives me an idea of how Latino people handle snow.”_ _

__Lance, face down ass up in the snow, spat out frozen bits of the stuff to snipe at Keith, “Oh like prairie boy could do any better.”_ _

__Pidge, cautiously sliding past them, looked over just long enough to shout, “Get a room already!”_ _

__The resulting blushes on the boys’ faces were much too bright to blame on the cold alone._ _

__~~~_ _

__That night it snowed hard enough that they could neither enjoy the jacuzzi outside nor watch anything together, as the satellite was too weak. Pidge, Lance, Keith and Shiro sat in the living room casting about for something to do while Hunk and Allura made cocoa, but had hardly begun brainstorming before Pidge slammed her hands on the coffee table and announced, “This is it, I’m pulling out my secret weapon.”_ _

__Everyone stared after her in befuddlement and when she returned to the common room with her entire suitcase, the befuddlement only increased._ _

__Pidge sat down beside her case, criss cross applesauce like a smug third grader, and dramatically threw back the cover to reveal several board games._ _

__“I always do this for group trips of any sort because they’re more fun than you think they’ll be, and because nothing breaks friendship like competitive games meant for ages six to fourteen.”_ _

__Shiro, closest to Pidge, reached into the suitcase and pulled out one of the board games. “Operation?”_ _

__Lance froze and looked like he’d just received a death sentence, “Shiro, we don’t need to play that.”_ _

__Shiro blinked at Lance. “Why? Do you not like the game?”_ _

__Pidge gave Lance a hard glare and the boy audibly gulped._ _

__“There’s nothing wrong with the game itself, it’s just- I- I-” He cast around for a few moments desperately before lighting upon Shiro’s prosthetic, peeking out from under the hem of his long sleeve shirt, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable with a game about surgery! That’s it- Shiro I just don’t want to put you off.”_ _

__Shiro’s blank stare continued for a moment longer before he looked down at his arm and it seemed to click, “No, no, Operation wouldn’t make me uncomfortable.”_ _

__“You don’t have to put on a brave front, Shiro,” Lance slipped off the couch and crouched at Shiro’s side, nudging him hard in the side and looking between him and Pidge pointedly._ _

Shiro stared back blankly, so Lance sighed and continued on in a tone of voice that made it clear he _really_ needed Shiro to start agreeing with him. 

“You don’t want to play some _violent, gory_ game that satirizes what you’ve gone through,” He looked off into the distance, which seemed to be somewhere right over Hunk’s shoulder. “We’ll set it off to the side, won’t we, Pidge?” 

__“I don’t know,” she said doubtfully, hands on her ankles and rocking back and forth, “Shiro seemed kind of interested.”_ _

__Lance looked hopefully at Keith for backup, but he was on his phone again and wasn’t paying any attention whatsoever to Lance’s losing battle. The supermodel huffed and turned back to Pidge, “Shiro is traumatized by Operation, we’re not playing it.”_ _

__“Lance,” Shiro said gently, “You don’t get to use me as a convenient excuse. Why don’t you tell us why you really just don’t want to play? Do you not like it? Are you bad at it?”_ _

__Hearing Shiro’s concerned-big-brother voice had Keith putting down his phone and tuning into the conversation._ _

Lance gave a long sigh, looking down at the floor, “Okay, I didn’t want it to come to this but- Pidge,” and suddenly Lance was yelling, “You _suck_ at Operation and get _way_ too angry about it! Last time we played you _stabbed_ Hunk. And Hunk wasn’t even playing!” 

__“I do NOT get angry over Operation!” Pidge yelled._ _

__“You’re already shouting!” Lance replied at an unfortunately equal volume. He looked at Shiro, “And this was why I was hoping I could use you to provide a legitimate excuse, because now she’s going to make us play just to prove a point!”_ _

__Keith was wondering what Pidge was like when she got angry, but Shiro, seeing a shadow of what would happen if they played the game, said, “You know, suddenly I don’t think I want to play operation after all, thank you Lance for reminding me that I have a debilitating fear of caricatured medical situations. What else is in your suitcase, Pidge?”_ _

__Sensing a losing battle, Pidge moved on from the subject, “Well, I have Life-”_ _

__“Too many pieces,” Lance said._ _

__“Or Clue-” Pidge continued._ _

__“You cheat!”_ _

__“Monopoly-”_ _

__“Waaayyy too long,”_ _

__“Battleship,”_ _

__Lance looked over, “What?”_ _

__Keith, heretofore silent, perked up, “Really?”_ _

__“Yeah, I’ve never actually played with Keith in person so I figured this was a good opportunity. Matt says it’s truly something.”_ _

__“While what Matt says is very true,” Shiro began, “It’s a two player game, so why don’t we save it for another time?”_ _

__“Well then I only have one game left,” Pidge said, holding up a battered box that looked like it had seen better days._ _

__“Fancy Nancy’s Posh Bedroom Game?” Keith asked._ _

__“I got it from an uncle for my birthday when I turned sixteen.” Pidge shrugged._ _

__“Sixteen? Not six?” Lance asked._ _

__“He wasn’t a very close uncle.”_ _

__“Well what is it?” Keith asked, slithering off the couch to join Shiro and Pidge on the floor._ _

“So I lost the actual rules card a while ago but this is how _I_ play it. Basically, you have this little board thingy-” 

__“Wait, wait,” Shiro interrupted, “If we’re really doing this then Hunk and Allura need to be in here to hear the rules.”_ _

__Pidge frowned, “I only have four boards.”_ _

__“We can rustle something up,” Shiro replied._ _

__“Okay, cowboy,” Lance muttered._ _

__They called Hunk and Allura in from the kitchen, and they arrived bringing cocoa and snacks, and then Pidge began again._ _

__“So you have this little board thingy, and it’s her super plain bedroom- white walls, pink bed, nothing much else.” She held up a cardboard rectangle about the size of a sheet of paper to show around to the group._ _

__Everyone nodded._ _

__“But if you flip these tiles down you get a fancy bedroom! One sixth at a time!” She briefly flipped all of the six panels up and down so everyone could see._ _

__“But in order to flip the tile down, you have to roll its corresponding color on this dice here, which I would swear chooses favorites and is loaded against players it doesn't like.” She looked out across the others, “Make peace with the dice. Make it your friend. It owns you.”_ _

__“To roll the dice, you play an accessories card.” She held up a pink card. “But to play accessories cards you have to have a purple ‘Let’s get fancy’ card out. You can force other players to get rid of their let’s get fancy cards, accessory cards and the cards in their hand by playing a blue ‘oops’ card. Draw a new card every time you start your turn, everybody got it?”_ _

__“Play a purple card, play a pink card, flip your tiles down, play a blue card on someone else if they get too close to winning. Sounds almost too easy,” said Lance. “Where’s the challenge?”_ _

__Pidge laughed maniacally. “You’ll see.”_ _

__“What are we going to do about extra boards?” Allura asked._ _

__“Let me see if I can find some paper somewhere to make a quick mockup of the board,” Shiro got up and started rummaging in the drawers of the entertainment center. He came back with a pad of paper and a pen, and fifteen minutes later they had a playing board for everyone, 4 cards dealt to every person, and had explained the rules at least three more times because Hunk kept confusing himself._ _

__He moaned, “This game already seems too complicated for six year olds.”_ _

__“Your back up plan if modelling didn’t work out was engineering school!” Lance cried, “You, of all people sitting on this floor, don’t get to say that!”_ _

“I _despise_ this interior decorating,” Allura hissed as she set up her board. “I see at least three instances where pink and orange are cohabiting, and she has a box on her bookshelf simply labelled ‘tinsel’.” Allura shuddered. 

__“Speaking of her bookshelf, why does it stay the same?” Hunk murmured, flipping his fancy bedroom tiles up and away so that only Nancy’s plain bedroom was showing, “That’s just lazy.”_ _

__“Who gave this six year old a four poster bed?” Pidge pointed out, “She clearly lives in a different world.”_ _

__“I’ll go first,” Shiro said, drawing a card. “I have to play a purple card, yes?”_ _

__Pidge nodded, and so he did just that. With his turn over, Pidge went, and then Lance leaned forward for a card, groaning and gesturing for Hunk to go._ _

__“No let’s get fancy cards, huh?” Hunk asked._ _

__“I have plenty of accessories but I guess none of them are fancy enough.” Lance muttered._ _

__“I wish we could trade cards,” Hunk commisserated as he played a let’s get fancy card and then gestured for Keith to go, “I think I have literally the most amount of fancy possible.”_ _

__Keith went, slowly putting down his purple card like he was waiting for somebody to play an oops on him._ _

__Allura played her purple card and then leaned back, still staring at her board with a critical designer’s eye. “This child’s bedroom is quite sleek and modern- before she destroys it with all those feather boas.”_ _

“Nancy is cleaning _out_ Ikea,” Lance commented. 

__Hunk murmured, “She’s clearly a big fan of that clean, minimalist aesthetic.”_ _

__“She’s like six!” Pidge cried. “You all are overthinking this game. Just go, Shiro.”_ _

__Shiro hurriedly drew a card, and then, looking around like he was unsure if this was right or not, slowly put down a pink accessories card._ _

__“Great job!” Pidge congratulated, “Now you get to roll the dice to see which color tab you get to put down.”_ _

__Shiro rolled and got light pink, and after his tab was down Pidge was up. She also played an accessories card, rolling orange, and then Lance went, sighing as he played his first let’s get fancy card a round behind the others. Hunk patted him on the back and leaned forward to draw his own card. When he did, he looked up at Pidge, “Hey, do we have to have a purple card down to play an oops?”_ _

__She hummed, “No, I suppose not.”_ _

__“Great,” Hunk grinned. He threw a blue oops card at Shiro, saying primly, “Oops.”_ _

__“Yeah, just great.” Shiro rolled his eyes and placed his let’s get fancy card, his accessories card, and his hand into their newly formed discard pile. He gave a glare at Hunk as he gestured for Keith to go._ _

__Allura shivered, “This game will ruin us. I can sense it.”_ _

__Keith, who’d been watching the whole round owlishly, now drew his own card and happily threw a blue card at Pidge, “I also oops you.”_ _

__She grumbled, but complied, and as he sat back Keith said, “I like the oopsing factor. This game might be as good as Candyland.”_ _

__Lance rolled his eyes, “Trust you to choose yet another game meant for six year olds to add to your list of favorites.”_ _

Keith opened his mouth to reply but Allura cut in, announcing, “I play an accessories card, and would like the dice please, in a very _peaceful_ ,” she eyed Lance, “and _orderly_ manner.” She also glared at Keith. 

She got the dark pink, and then it was back to Shiro. Since he had no longer had a hand and the card he drew wasn’t a let’s get fancy, his turn passed without anything happening, and the same thing happened to Pidge. As she looked at her card in dismay, Pidge said, “That blue card is _brutal_.” 

__“I know,” Hunk nodded, watching Lance draw, “It’s like if someone plays it on you, you can just go ahead and basically say bye bitch.” He snapped for dramatic effect and the effeminate touch on the normally masculine model had the whole table breaking up in laughter._ _

__Lance finally managed to play one of his many accessories cards, and with a manic grin he turned down his blue tab, “Papa’s on the board now, boys.”_ _

__“Never call yourself that again,” Keith said._ _

__“Or what?” Lance asked, leaning over Hunk to get in Keith’s face and lowering his eyelashes._ _

Keith’s face promptly went fire engine red and Hunk cleared his throat, “Hey, maybe _don’t_ flirt over my lap, Lance?” 

__“I’m not flirting,” Lance announced, “That was a war tactic.” He turned to the table at large, “Hunk has three oopses in his hand.”_ _

__“Lance!” Hunk cried, voice strangled._ _

__“How could you, Hunk?” Pidge cried. “You made us think you had let’s get fancys!”_ _

“Hey, it’s not like I _chose_ what to draw.” Hunk grumbled. “Fancy Nancy just blessed me. She sensed a kindred spirit.” 

__“And you get to go next,” Shiro said, horror in his voice._ _

__Everyone watched Hunk draw, and when he didn’t immediately play an accessories card everyone immediately began bargaining with him as to why he shouldn’t play his oops on them._ _

__Hunk, enjoying being the center of attention, hummed and looked down at his cards. With far too much glee in his voice, he said, “Who do I betray?”_ _

__The table waited for a few more seconds with baited breath, but then Hunk said, “Allura.” He set down his oops card like it was a death sentence. “It just makes the most sense. I have to oops you.”_ _

__She growled, outright growled, but turned in all her cards and sat back without putting up too much of a fight. As soon as Keith drew, he grinned and threw the card, a blue oops, at Hunk and announced, “I oops you, Hunk!”_ _

__Hunk gave a heavy exhale but also got rid of all his cards, sitting back and saying, “Honestly, that was for the best.”_ _

__“I saved us,” Keith announced to the table._ _

__“My hero,” Lance said, trying to lean in again, but Hunk caught him and held him back, “There will be no dirty playing of this posh bedroom game, Lance” he scolded. “Stay in your space like a good interior designer.”_ _

__“But Hunkie-poo,” Lance cooed, not so subtly trying to see Keith’s cards._ _

__“Don’t cheat, Lancey-pie.” Hunk looked over at Keith, “You better hide your cards.”_ _

__Keith couldn’t take his eyes off Lance, who’d lean forward enough that he was teasing a flash of nipple. From across the table, Shiro spoke up and said, “Lance, if you don’t stop I will play every oops card I get on you.”_ _

__That was enough of a threat that Lance sat back, and with that it was time for Allura to redraw. She slammed a let’s get fancy card down and announced, “Guess what bitches? Let’s get fancy.”_ _

__Shiro also drew a let’s get fancy, and Pidge was stuck with two cards in her hand but no let’s get fancy._ _

__Lance, having missed being oopsed and with a tile down, got the chance to roll again, and this time he got to put down his orange tile, the first to reveal a second sliver of his posh bedroom._ _

__Hunk had to redraw from scratch, but he got a let’s get fancy. Keith got to play an accessory card and rolled light pink. As soon as she drew her card, Allura glared vindictively at Hunk, but rather than oopsing him she tossed it at Lance. “Cough up your cards, McClain.”_ _

__He groaned and began gathering his cards, “Does anyone else think this game have way too many oopses and let’s get fancys?”_ _

__Pidge grimaced, “That’s exactly what makes this game nightmarish.”_ _

__The rounds passed quickly but all were equally unfruitful. Only one thing remained consistent, and that Hunk’s inability to roll anything but a green. The others stopped bothering to oops him, because they knew even if he got to roll he’d only get green._ _

__As he laid out an accessories card for the fourth time since his last oops, he said lifelessly, “This only brings me pain.” Pidge, handing him the dice, responded “You have to. It’s your duty as to Fancy Nancy. She’d want you to.”_ _

He stood up, shaking the dice violently cupped in both his palms and threw it down. It bounced under the coffee table, but when Lance leaned down to look at it he cackled, “It’s _still_ on green.” 

__“Hunk,” Allura asked incredulously, “What did you do to make that dice hate you so much?”_ _

__Hunk sat down with a shudder, hiding his face in his palms, “I don’t know- all I know is that I hate this!”_ _

__“I love this,” Keith contradicted, starting his own turn by oopsing Lance again. As he watched Lance flip his board in rage- he’d spent three turns trying to get a let’s get fancy card- he grinned and said, “This game might be even better than battleship.”_ _

__It took Lance another two turns after that to get another let’s get fancy card, and he played it without announcing the card name as the group had been doing. As he sat back, Keith murmured, “You have to say it.”_ _

__Lance, sounding like he’d seen death, whispered, “Let’s get fancy.”_ _

__Hunk, on his sixth turn, cried when he got a green._ _

__Forty five minutes into the game, and Keith and Pidge were both one tile away from winning. The problem for Pidge was that she needed green but kept rolling orange, and since Keith seemed to draw just the card he needed every time, he managed to win._ _

__Everyone was very over the game and ready to go to bed, except for Keith, who was trying to cajole Lance into playing a second game with him. Unfortunately for Keith, Lance had hated every moment of the game with every fiber of his being and no amount of puppy dog eyes were going to persuade him. Everyone went to bed that night cursing Fancy Nancy and each other, except for Keith, who fell asleep hoping that they could play it again the next night._ _

__The rest of the trip everyone made sure to make no mention of board games, because they could all see that any mention of potential plans made Keith perk up in hopes of a second game. Their second night they made sure to out to the jacuzzi, and it was only on their way home at the end of their third day that Keith got a chance to mention his new favorite board game again._ _

__It happened while they were in the car, with Shiro and Hunk snoring gently in the back and the four up front chatting amicably._ _

__There was a lull in the conversation, and Keith took advantage of it to ask Pidge, “Could I borrow that game? I want to play it with Matt and Shiro.”_ _

Pidge considered him for a moment before she said, “Keith, I have no idea why you like that infuriating, satanic game so much, but if you want it, it’s yours. I’ll let you _have it_.” 

__Keith’s grin was so bright it almost made Lance want to tell him he’d play a round of it with him, but nothing was worth going through the torture of Fancy Nancy’s Posh Bedroom and her million and one oopses. Instead he debated waking up Shiro, letting him stop this trade off would be the nice thing to do, but Lance shrugged and decided not to say anything. If Shiro had let Keith play Battleship the way he did for so many years, having to sit through Fancy Nancy once a month would be nothing to him._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to my best friend Micah who very kindly came over and played the board game with us and who rolled green SIX times and inspired so much of what happens to Hunk.
> 
> This is my last update for the year! I have some one shots to post but I won't see you here again until 2018. I just want to say thank you for all the love and support I've received. This was my first endeavor in creative writing that wasn't poetry based but like honestly I love it so much more I don't really care if it's not as respected or if I'm not receiving awards or anything for it bc honestly just writing it is really fun and interacting with you guys is really fun, and I would never have done this if my sister hadn't pestered me and you guys hadn't poured so much emotional energy into this, so yeah. thanks. You made my first year writing fic really fun :D I hope the next year is just as great! Please continue to work with me and bear with me, and I'll do my best to continue to improve and bring this story to a satisfying end.


	23. Runway Ready Bustier and Stockings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This week on Project Runway our designers took menswear to the farm and then brought it back to the runway. But with tensions rising in the workroom between both designers and models, will we manage to prove our models could look good even in a potato sack, or will the designers' outfits get dragged through the mud?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY I FORGOT TO UPDATE YESTERDAY IT WAS POOR PLANNING ON MY PART(╥﹏╥)
> 
> I have a goal for early 2018 to sit down and spend some time with ao3 bc I have one-shots I never got around to posting, a backlog of illustrations I have to put up and I’d always like to get further ahead of my posting schedule than I am. I am so sorry, like y’all don’t deserve this. ORZ  
> And on that note, present self would like to thank past self for editing these chapters as she finishes them because future self is so busy and overwhelmed she doesn't have time to breathe much less edit. (ಸ‿ಸ)
> 
> (my end note has reference photos for Slav and Sven's outfits if you wanna know what lance and keith are wearing for the runway)

Lance was honestly surprised that Keith’s dismissal of their friendship hurt so much. It had echoed in his head when they’d gotten back to the hotel yesterday night, and now as he sat in a makeup chair with Slav talking about what eyeshadows worked best in this reality he still couldn’t get it off his mind. 

On the one hand, Lance knew that Keith hadn’t understood what Lance and Sven had _really_ been talking about yesterday. He’d looked utterly lost when Lance had asked for backup, and probably hadn’t known what the right answer was. The sensible part of Lance thought that Keith was probably trying to think of what Lance wanted him to say, or what was best for the cameras, but even if those things were true both of his answers had still been really callous.

Was that just Keith being inept at communication, or was that how he really thought of their relationship?

Slav had finally decided on an eyeshadow palette, so Lance let his eyes close and his mind wander as the makeup artist smeared color over his lid. He wondered if it was worth talking to Keith about it. On the one hand, he didn’t want to hear that Keith _had_ been insinuating that he wanted more distance between them. On the other hand, from what Lance had seen of Keith so far he didn’t look like he got a lot of practice caring for other people’s feelings. Lance could be working himself into a tizzy over absolutely nothing. He did that all the time. It was one of the things he was best at.

When he got back to the workroom, still internally debating, he saw Keith was already wearing his outfit and sporting full hair and makeup. Sven had put him in pants that were something between joggers and capris, and had paired it with a sleeveless military-esque top that had a deep hood. It was dark, edgy, and Keith totally embodied its vibes with all the grace and poise of any multi-million dollar model. He seemed clueless to his appeal though, standing patiently in front of Sven’s workstation while the designer stitched at something on one of the shoulders, looking.

“Wow,” Lance purred, leaning against his own designer’s workstation. Slav was in the sewing room hemming his pants, and Lance was one of the few models with hair and makeup but no clothes. He tried not to worry, instead thinking about how he was free to vent his frustration with his dumb, sweet, socially inept crush by nettling said crush when he was unable to run away. “You make that potato sack look good.” 

Keith shifted, looking at Lance with that expression he got when he wasn’t sure how to handle him. “Well, I suppose that was the challenge.”

Lance grinned, staring right at Sven as he said, “Well, even if your designer lands on the bottom, you’ll know it wasn’t your fault. Only Sven’s.”

Sven looked up and gave Lance an equally aggressive grin, “Hey, I’d like to think it was at least _partially_ my talent. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“No, Lance isn’t getting ahead himself,” cut in the beachy blonde model from their first day, “He’s just speaking the truth!”

“I almost chose him, you know,” another designer added, “He just looked so angry I was worried he didn’t want to be chosen by me.”

Another model currently being stitched into a pair of shorts spoke up, “Yeah, Sven was lucky he had the balls to pick Keith. He’s got such an intimidating aura, but once you get past his glare he’s pretty enough he makes anything immediately look edgy and high fashion. It’s that pseudo-asian aesthetic.”

“Pseudo-asian?” Lance cut in. “I’ll have you know Keith is real asian.”

Keith, listening to the conversation, mumbled, “My parents are from Texas.”

“I don’t care if he’s real or fake,” a third model replied, “He’s the most striking model in this room and that’s all that matters.”

Keith remained relatively quiet during the exchange between the models, at a loss for words. He had been prepared for Lance to turn his comment on Keith’s looks into a joke. Land the pick up line, make a witty remark at Keith’s expense, _something_ to make it clear that Lance was just complimenting him because he wanted to flirt, not that he actually thought Keith was bringing something extra to the clothes with his modelling.

He knew Lance thought he was sexy, but being sexy was not the same thing as being a good model. But apparently Lance recognized that Keith did have modelling talent, and the other models in the room were all agreeing that Keith improved the clothes when he wore them. All this time he’d felt like an ugly duckling, like a low budget indie model that had gotten into this gig by grace of his connections, but hearing them talk now made him realize that everyone here saw him as an equal. 

A laugh bubbled up out of Keith before he could stop it. The models and designers all went quiet, surprised at the unexpectedly light, pure tones of Keith’s giggle.

“ _That_ ,” said beach boy, “was adorable.”

“Did you really think our commentary was that funny?” asked Lance.

Keith smiled, but before he could reply Sven whistled and said, “Here I thought you couldn’t get any prettier, but one smile and I realize I’m wrong.”

Lance could practically feel the steam coming out of his ears as he watched Keith pause to process Sven’s statement and then blush wildly as he realized its ramifications. Lance realized that Keith could be very clueless when it came to certain social cues. Certain things just didn’t click for him. When they did finally click, they clicked hard and Keith did things like blush up to his ears- like he was doing now- or even return the flirting pickup line for pickup line- Lance had a sudden horrendous thought that Keith might start to _return_ Sven’s flirting. The designer had been hitting on Keith all yesterday, and now here at the last minute Keith had finally picked up on it. 

Lance was just about to jump in and say something even more risque in the hopes of pulling Keith’s attention back to him when Tim Gunn walked into the workroom and announced, “Ten minutes everybody, and then we are heading down to the runway!”

Slav rushed out of the sewing room, flailing Lance’s pants over his head and shouting, “I am seventy eight percent certain that in this reality if you do not put these pants on within the next two minutes I will definitely not win this challenge!”

Lance rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to make a sarcastic comment, knowing he shouldn’t vent his irritation at Sven on Slav. Instead he pulled the pants on, stepped into his boots, and let Slav zip him into his top. 

When Tim returned to escort them to the runway, everyone was ready except for one designer frantically snipping at loose threads. Three cameramen swarmed her like flies until she managed to leave the workroom, and Lance was glad his designer had manage to finish on time. He wouldn’t look very impressive representing Voltron in a half-finished garment.

The models and designers were separated backstage and a few minutes later the director called action. Heidi Klum, one of the permanent judges and the host of the show, stepped out to greet the designers and introduce Allura, giving a pre-rehearsed spiel about how Voltron was in stores now before she moved on to reminding the audience what the challenge had been. 

Finally she called for the fashion show to begin, and then the models started moving down the runway. Lance happened to go near the beginning and Keith towards the end, so they got to watch each other walk but they didn’t stand near each other in line.

The moment Lance stepped out on stage he heard sharp intakes of breath from the audience. He knew that was partially because of the outfit, but it was also because of his impressive stage presence. His riding boots glinted in the bright lights of the runway, and Slav’s open neckline and back were sleek, sensual, and almost teasingly scandalous. His shoulder blades were out and stunningly sharp, and his neckline plunged nearly to his navel, showing everyone his beautifully tan skin.

When he struck his pose, arms on his waist for the sharp angles Slav told him gave his clothes the best drama and impact suitable for this reality, he couldn’t resist throwing a little smirk to the camera. He looked good in these clothes and he knew it.

As he headed back up the runway he threw a wink to Zac Posen, the only male judge and the fashion director for Brooks Brothers Women. Nina Garcia, fashion editor for Marie Claire magazine, nudged him and laughed while Allura gave Lance a stern glare.

Keith, watching from the wings, ignored the twinge in his chest when Lance flirted with Zac. It was just what Lance did, he tried to remind himself. It didn’t mean anything.

When Lance came behind the screen and headed for the waiting area, he threw Keith a grin and a thumbs up. Keith was trying his hardest not to psych himself out like he’d done in the first days of the challenge. True, this was his first runway and it would be aired on national TV, but after hearing the way the models had talked about him in the workroom this morning, Keith felt like he was just as qualified as any other model here. When the assistant queueing the models gestured at Keith, he was able to step on the runway channeling every bit of the fierce, dark energy Sven had asked from him.

As he walked his heavy work boots made solid clunks on the runway, the loose laces slapping around his exposed calves. Sven’s loose joggers had been pushed up to capri length, but the stiffness of the burlap made the folds of the fabric harsh and defined, something that was even further defined by the militaristic detailing on his sleeveless hoodie.

The oversized hood went from nearly shoulder to shoulder and moved with Keith as he walked. He liked the way he peered out from under it; he felt like it let him bring that extra bit of edge to the outfit. The pose he struck at the end of the runway was one that Sven had coached him into doing where he turned to the side, jerked his chin up at the audience, and then grabbed his hood and gave it a brief tug.

He made his way back up the runway not giving a look to the judges- he didn’t know any of them anyway- but instead giving a quick look to Sven to see how he felt about Keith’s walk. The proud smile he saw made Keith smile in return, and when he came off the runway to see Lance waiting for him he couldn’t help but smile even brighter. He’d been very reluctant to come on the show, but now that it had happened he was glad he’d done it.

Sven and Slav both made it into the top, as well as another designer who’d done a smoking jacket and shorts in charcoal. When Keith and Lance made their way on stage, Heidi went out of her way to greet them and congratulate them on Voltron. Lance thanked her with such grace and poise that Keith would never have been able to guess that he'd been squealing about meeting her just that morning. Keith was reminded again of the vast difference in their abilities, especially when he could only bring himself to nod at the assembled panel. The judges each took turns addressing the designers, and some of their remarks were very cutting.

“I’ll be honest Sven,” Zac Posen began, “I thought an actual potato sack might have been more flattering for your model.”

Sven looked taken aback, and Keith felt the same way. He’d liked what Sven had designed for him. 

“Your model has this beautiful body with these toned limbs and this gorgeous face, and you put him in a baggy drop crotch and this almost costumey hood?” He shook his head and sat back in his seat. “Not my favorite work from you.”

Nina Garcia, the other long time judge for the show, spoke up in Sven’s defense, “See, I think what you don’t like, Zac, happens to be my favorite. The joggers are fresh, exciting and, most importantly, wearable-” Zac snorted, but Nina continued, “And the hood is editorial. I would put that on the cover of my magazine, especially with this model- what was your name- Keith? Especially with Keith wearing the clothes.”

Heidi nodded and replied, “You know, I don’t know how Allura managed to nab Lance, I’ve always wondered, but here I see she has Keith now too, and I realize that she really is filling her company with modelling talent.”

Allura smirked and leaned forward to look at Heidi, “Is that your way of asking to model for my line?”

“If the clothes are all as well designed as Sven’s,” Heidi laughed, “Then yes!” 

Keith felt vaguely amazed at the way the judges just talked over the designer’s head and at the casual way they critiqued Sven’s clothing. He was glad that Heidi and Nina liked it, and he felt a little offended on Sven’s behalf at the bluntness of Zac’s comments.

When it came time for Allura to comment she simply said, “These are exactly the kinds of clothes I would put Keith in. I think you have an eye for designs that are both high fashion and available for mass production. I like it.”

Keith decided that while it wasn’t the level of praise _he_ would have given the outfit, it would do.

Unfortunately for Sven, the judges all loved Slav’s look, as well as the other designer’s. 

Lance just got to stand there and smile while they praised Slav’s clothing. He was happy for Slav, but the man was such an eccentric and it had been such a pain modelling for him Lance found himself apathetic.

As the three designers and their models left the runway Sven whispered to Keith that he knew he wouldn’t win, it would be Slav or the other designer, but knowing that he’d made it into the top was enough for him. 

While Keith and Sven were having a love fest, Lance was stuck walking backstage with Slav who just muttered under his breath about how the judging affected this reality. When the models departed from the designers Lance was honestly glad. It meant they got to take off their burlap concoctions and return to the hotel to sleep until their flight later that evening. He and Keith had the dressing area to themselves, as the losing models were out on stage now and the models with safe designers were already undressed and headed home. Lance had never really appreciated how much they edited down the critiquing for TV until he’d had to stand there and wait as the crew and director called for re-shots and he’d had to listen to each of the four judges and three designers give their full response.

As they were undressing Keith murmured, “I hope Sven does end up winning. He worked really hard on his design, he deserves it.”

Lance didn’t mean for the note of bitterness to enter his voice when he replied, “Well, I think every model worked really hard Keith, but there can only be one winner.”

Keith looked up at Lance who was still undressing, “I- I know that I just mean. I like Sven.”

Lance rolled his eyes, “Oh, trust me, I know you like Sven. I got that vibe loud and clear.”

Keith frowned. Lance hadn’t been this catty with him since their earliest meetings.

“Hey, McClain, what’s going on?” He asked.

Lance gave a deep sigh and visibly gathered himself. He was letting his irritation with Slav, his envy of Sven and his jealousy over Keith all come together in a swirl of negativity- and at its center Keith’s remarks from yesterday. But he didn’t need to take it out on Keith, especially when the other model had done nothing wrong.

“Nothing’s wrong, Keith. It’s me. Not you. You’re fine. Peachy. Living the dream life with your hard edge, chic designer you’re falling all over.”

“Falling all over?” Keith wrinkled his nose. “Are you trying to say I’m- interested in Sven? Is that what you’re getting at?”

Lance leaned back against one of the vanity counters and took a makeup wipe to his face. “Is that not what’s happening? You blush when he flirts with you, you call me a ‘co-worker’ even though in the past you’ve fucking-” Lance cut himself off. He didn’t want to do this right now, he’d only end up saying something he didn’t mean and really regretting it later.

“I just thought we were closer than we apparently are.” He grimaced and looked away. “I’m just being bitchy. Give me a few hours and I’ll be fine- and for god’s sake, Keith, put a shirt on.”

Keith stood there, shirt off and pants half-undone, feeling utterly out of his depth once again. His relationship with Lance seemed to do that to him a lot. He thought through everything Lance had said, trying to decide how to answer.

He felt like if yesterday’s encounter with Sven had been a test, he’d failed, and this was his only chance at a makeup.

“Well I- I’m not,” he began, hesitantly, just waiting for Lance to cut him off, “Interested in Sven, that is. He’s just a friend. Not even that really. An acquaintance. A cool guy. And um. You’re not being bitchy- you’re, you’re upset, so I should apologize for that. I hurt you and I- uh, I don’t know what to do to fix that but I do feel bad about it. I didn’t know you felt that way.” Keith winced, “I’m really bad at picking up on stuff like that. Sorry.”

Lance nodded, jerkily, and willed away the shine in his eyes. “I- I knew in my head you probably weren’t interested in him. I just- I over think things. And when you didn’t call us friends yesterday, it hurt more than I was expecting.”

“Are we friends though?” Keith asked, voice weak and tentative, “I didn’t think we were friends.”

The confusion in Keith’s voice lifted the heavy weight off Lance’s chest. Keith really had just been that much of a socially inept doofus. Lance didn’t know whether he wanted to hug him or punch him.

“You asshole!” Lance laughed thickly, “Of course we’re friends. You fucking fought my ex for me, you’re in the top tier friend group now.”

Keith was stunned. He wasn’t just Lance’s friend, he was one of Lance’s best friends?

It felt like sunlight was blooming in his chest, like someone had put a hundred helium balloons in his stomach and set him free in the sky. Keith couldn’t help the smile that broke over his face. Lance, seeing the earnest joy on Keith’s face, couldn’t help but smile back.

“Honestly, you’re an idiot,” Lance softly chided him, “You didn’t think we were friends? And what was with that ‘friends with benefits’ stunt? Jesus, man, I was sure Allura was going to kill us and use us as highly fashionable mannequins in her flagship store.”

Keith tilted his head to the side, taking the makeup wipe Lance offered him and starting to wipe off his own face while the other model moved to get dressed in his street clothes again. “Well, I thought that’s what we were. After that Taco Bell conversation and the kiss in the elevator-”

Lance cut him off with a hand over Keith's mouth, face bright red.

“Don’t just _talk_ about it like it’s-it’s normal! We’re rivals, Keith! Or friends! Bros! You make it sound like we’re dating!”

The seconds that followed after Lance’s exclamation were heavy with unspoken potential.

Lance tried to brush over the heavy atmosphere by continuing, “I suppose, _technically_ , to say we’re friends with benefits wouldn't be _wrong_ , but I would much prefer to just call it- bros who acknowledge each other’s hotness or something.” 

The idea of being friends with benefits sounded scandalous to Lance, like something filled with passion and danger. And while there would certainly be danger involved- if it broke to the presses the wrong way Allura would be mad- but there wouldn’t be any passion. Not the kind Lance wanted. He’d want emotional passion, not just sexual. He remembered telling himself he was only interested in Keith sexually, and that everything else was platonic, but now he was admitting to crushing on Keith, and platonically sleeping with the object of your affections was a surefire recipe to cause emotional heartache. 

Which was why, of course, when Keith gestured at his mouth for Lance to remove his hand, Lance did, but only by following through on the terrible, wonderful idea replace it with his mouth. He knew this couldn't end well, but that didn't mean he didn't want to kiss him.

He could feel Keith’s gasp of surprise ghost over his lips, and he took the opportunity to lick his way into Keith’s mouth. For a few seconds they both stayed there, the soft sounds of Lance’s tongue in Keith’s mouth the only sound that could be heard in the dressing room.

Lance pulled away, breathing heavy and audible in the quiet of the room. Keith was looking at him with pink cheeks and wide eyes, and Lance had to resist the urge to dive back in for another quick kiss. 

Lance grinned, seeing that he’d effectively made Keith forget whatever he’d been about to say. He leaned in, Keith watching him with an enraptured fascination, only to boop Keith on the nose and then flounce away to finish putting his shirt on. 

If that was what Keith looked like after a kiss, Lance couldn’t wait to see what he looked like after they _really_ started getting into the benefits. There was a part of him that wondered if Keith would blush that sweetly if Lance brought him flowers, or told him how beautiful it was that Keith tried his hardest at everything he did, but Lance pushed those thoughts away. Keith didn’t want those things from Lance. He probably didn’t want them at all.

~~~

When Allura finally came back to the hotel room to find them, Keith and Lance had managed to get in no less than two fights, one of which had ended with Keith laying spread eagle on the bed, all of its pillows captive beneath his limbs, glaring at Lance who lay on the couch clutching Keith’s jacket to his chest. 

She didn’t even say anything, just gave them each a hard stare that made it painfully clear that they would be cutting the attitude out right now.

Lance gave Keith one last look before throwing the mullet head’s jacket back to him and asking Allura, “So who won?”

“Did you not hear? It was Hira.” She replied airily, one hand on her hip, “Sven and Slav were both runner ups.”

Keith groaned, wishing he had some way to let Sven know he was still proud of him, and Lance just chuckled. So neither of their designers had won. He wish he could say he was sorry, but if he never saw Sven or Slav again it would honestly be too soon.

“Which designer went home?” Lance asked, honestly a little curious. 

“The girl who tried to put her model in a kilt. While we all applauded her attempt, the shortcomings were... Ah… something we couldn’t look past.”

Lance snorted, “Literal shortcomings. It was really just a mini skirt in burlap.”

Keith threw a pillow at Lance, “That was an awful joke.”

Allura clicked her tongue and moved to grab her suitcase, “Be kind, Lance, she cried when we told her she’d lost.” She looked at the other two models, who still hadn’t moved. “Come on then,” she said, “We have a plane to catch. I have things to do tomorrow.”

Together the three of them packed up very quickly, and Keith went to sleep that night in his own bed, fingers tracing over his lips and wondering if he could still feel Lance on them.

~~~

The next morning Allura came into Altea bright and early as usual, only to find the secretary who worked the front desk tearfully greeting her and asking why on earth Allura had let this happen.

When Allura inquired what exactly ‘this’ was, the secretary gestured to the seating area in the center of the lobby that wasn’t visible from the front desk. Allura moved to look and nearly had a conniption when she saw a certain cow standing on the plush white shag carpet of Altea’s lobby.

Fifteen minutes later saw Allura standing in a glass-walled conference room watching Kaltenecker like she might cut loose and wreak havoc at any moment. Allura was going to _kill_ Lance, she didn’t care if he made her more money than her next three top models combined, that boy had _shipped_ a _cow_ to her _goddamned_ lobby.

“Hey Allura,” Lance slurred, his voice still thick with sleep, “Why are you calling so early in the morning?”

“Hello Lance,” Allura replied, the ice in her voice making Lance sit up straight in bed and automatically begin to think through his schedule for the day and try to figure out what appointment he’d forgotten.

“I’m calling you so early because we have a curious happening here at Altea that I do believe only _you_ could be responsible for.”

Well now Lance had no idea what was happening.

“Do you remember a certain bovine companion of yours you became acquainted with on the farm?”

Oh. Now Lance knew what she was talking about. 

“Kaltenecker’s already there? But they weren’t supposed to deliver her until the end of this week! I’m so sorry Allura, I had plans to talk to you about it today and make sure you were okay with it so it wasn’t a surprise-”

“You were going to tell me I was getting a cow shipped to my office a few days before it happened, and you thought that was going to be totally fine?” Allura wasn’t just going to kill Lance, she was going to empty out every single one of his skin care products in front of him before she killed him.

“I-yeah. Should I not have?” Lance paused. “Oh come on Allura, Kaltenecker’s a good girl, she’ll be the best office cow you’ve ever had, and cows are neat, I figured we could just put her up in an unused office and take her out for walks-”

Allura cut in, “An _office cow_? Lance, you’ve had some crazy ideas, but this is by far the most absurd. I’m not accepting this. You _have_ to send this cow back to the farm. I don’t know how you thought this would work out, but it won’t.”

“No, don’t send her back to the farm! Allura, please, I don’t have enough room for her to live in my apartment, but I’ve never wanted another pet like I want Kaltenecker.”

She was _seething_ , but she was also sensing a bargaining chip. 

“All right Lance. You’ll owe me, big time. I mean one, unconditional, you’ll-do-whatever-I-say favor, but I’ll let you keep the cow at my family’s country estate. Will that be acceptable?”

There was absolutely no hesitation in Lance’s voice when he replied, “Allura, you beautiful babe, that would work perfectly, how do you always manage these things?”

She hung up in lieu of replying and couldn’t help smiling to herself. While Lance had probably wanted to house the cow in her country house from the get-go and thought it better to ask forgiveness than permission, it wasn’t often she got to have unconditional leverage over Lance McClain. She’d be sure to use her favor very wisely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I hate encoding images you can just click the links below for my inspiration. Lance had the pants of the first photo and the top of the second, and Keith has the top from the third with mid calf joggers. And you're gonna fuckin hate me for this but my sis has illustrations of it but I'm just a piece of oil slicked flotsam that can't be bothered to scan upload and embed it ahahahahahha (im so sorry you don't deserve this)
> 
> https://media1.popsugar-assets.com/files/thumbor/qcCTGtTYiuCjEc2awwZmFEdLfHE/fit-in/1024x1024/filters:format_auto-!!-:strip_icc-!!-/2010/01/03/5/192/1922564/Picture_9/i/Jesse.png
> 
> https://media1.popsugar-assets.com/files/thumbor/DLnudpxDLELHEdhmjk_lZ7GeBZM/fit-in/1024x1024/filters:format_auto-!!-:strip_icc-!!-/2010/01/03/5/192/1922564/Picture_13/i/Mila.png
> 
> https://media1.popsugar-assets.com/files/thumbor/SDZdOybRAiLdpQGjIJUhDz_JE0g/fit-in/1024x1024/filters:format_auto-!!-:strip_icc-!!-/2010/01/03/5/192/1922564/Picture_16/i/Seth-Aaron.png
> 
> Also this chap is as close to friends with benefits as it's gonna get. I don't really enjoy that kind of angst, so they're just downplaying their feelings by labelling their relationship as friends with benefits but you can bet that they care about each other so much it's not gonna fly.  
> Also I'm reading comments and loving them so much and I WILL REPLY I PROMISE. Please leave a kudos or a comment or subscribe if you wanna know when the next chapter goes up!


	24. Super Risky High Cut Thong in Cranberry Velour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith gets what could be his most fulfilling job yet. Unfortunately, it could also be his most excruciating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO ALL! I COME TO YOU, IN THE NEW YEAR... A PUBLISHED WRITER!!!!! Yeah that's right! One of my poems is going to be published in early 2018. More than anything I'm excited to be able to say I'm a published writer who ALSO writes fanfic. lowkey that's what I'm most excited for. Yeet Bois. 
> 
> On a separate note, I won't be making the christmas special a one shot aside bc I don't want to lose all the lovely comments on it :(((((((((((((((((((( Thanks for dealing with it living there now <3 <3 <3
> 
> This mini arc and the next multichap arc you all have modotrising to thank for this bc I wasn't even gonna do this part of the manga but they got it in my head so like. I gotta. Idek if theyre reading this anymore but if they are thanks brah. and a THANK YOU ALSO GOES OUT TO BAGELL HEY FAM I BROUGHT KIMBERLY BACK JUST BC YOU ASKED <3 sometimes you guys ask for things and they Just Fit so like why not?

After Project Runway, Keith had two weeks of absolutely no modelling. He got to focus on his classes at the studio, spend some time dancing for himself, and coach the studio’s youth hip hop team for their upcoming competition. 

But then Allura called with his next gig, and Keith was suddenly glad he’d been recently spending so much time in the studio. Allura had been approached with an offer for Keith to feature in a music video as a dancer with a minor acting role. When she told Keith how the job offer had come to her, Keith realized he’d underestimated the importance of making good impressions and gaining connections within the industry.

Kimberly, the woman who’d been the fashion director of the Moe Lolita Dream Fashions shoot Keith had done, had been the one to call Allura. She was now spearheading the styling for a music video, much like she’d done for the photo shoot. Keith hadn’t been aware that Kimberly had been such an influential figure, but apparently she was well known in the creative fashion industry. The music artist involved, Florona, was taking Kimberly’s advice very seriously- even when that advice extended to casting. The two had discussed the storyline and when Kimberly heard what exactly the role of the dancer would be, she’d immediately thought of Keith.

If he accepted the job, Allura and Kim would negotiate a deal so that Voltron fashions could sponsor the video and have Keith wear the line’s merchandise and officially feature in the video as a paladin. Allura then explained exactly what the music video would involve- pole dancing, some interpretive hip hop, and a short acting interlude. Florona’s vocals would be laid over their acting, so Keith would only have to use his facial expressions and body language- skills he already had from dancing.

The more Allura told him about the shoot, the more conflicted Keith was. On the one hand, he had been a dancer for years before he ever thought of being a model. The chance to dance professionally was something he didn’t want to pass up. He was honestly more excited at the chance to dance in this creative project than to model as a paladin. On the other hand, the storyline of the music video was kind of dark and Keith didn’t really harmonize with his part of the story. Even if Allura tried to paint the acting as no different from dancing and gloss over the troubled, dark character Keith was supposed to be, those were still the two things he focused in on. He had never taken an acting class; he’d be even more out of depth with the acting than he had been with the runway walk. And the end his character got was far from a happy one. He felt like with his lack of experience he’d never be able to pull off the performance asked of him, and he really didn’t want to try. 

But then again, when did Keith ever want to do a gig Allura had presented him?

Keith was really glad that he had plans for dinner with Shiro later that week so he could talk about whether or not to accept the job. He stopped in at a Build Your Own Brownie Bar on his way over to Shiro’s to pick up a dessert for his brother and Matt. That was one social convention Shiro had very successfully drilled into Keith’s head. When you went over to people’s houses, especially for specific reasons like dinner, you brought a gift. 

Keith got a half dozen peanut butter cookie dough brownies- he could barely stomach them because they were so rich, but Matt loved them and Shiro separated the cookie dough from the brownie before eating both, so Keith kept buying them. As the girl behind the counter boxed up his order, Keith thought to himself that he’d been coming to Shiro for advice a lot more often since he started this modelling job. He hoped he didn’t mind. Keith figured it was probably better than all the times he’d done things _without_ asking Shiro back when they’d been growing up.

Tonight, Shiro was making a dinner from his and Keith’s shared childhood, fried chicken with cornbread and green beans. There wasn’t much growing up in Texas had given them that had stuck, especially with Shiro’s Japanese parents giving them such a culturally singular experience, but this particular meal had. Shiro had gone to the trouble to make almost everything from scratch, and Matt had actually helped Shiro cook by setting the table and getting ice water. That was the extent of help Shiro _let_ Matt provide. 

When the doorbell rang Shiro had just pulled the chicken out of the skillet and was pulling off his oven mitts and apron while Matt got the door. Keith handed off his box of baked goods to Matt and then went straight to Shiro for a hug. Shiro was surprised at the fact that Keith was initiating affection, but he wasn’t going to question it. Moments like this where Keith did something he would’ve never done when he first came into Shiro’s life all those years ago made Shiro so proud of how far his baby brother had come.

“Hey there, buddy,” Shiro chuckled, ruffling Keith’s hair, “Were you really that excited about dinner tonight?”

Unfazed by his brother’s gentle teasing, Keith muttered a soft, “Yeah,” into Shiro’s shirt.

Over Keith’s head, Shiro shot Matt a puzzled look, who merely gave a small shrug in return. 

When another few seconds went by with Keith just soaking in Shiro’s steady calm, Shiro spoke up again, “Seriously, what’s up Keith?”

Keith gave a soft exhalation of breath and stepped away from Shiro, looking much more centered, “Allura offered me a new job, but it’s- I want to do it but at the same time I don’t.”

Shiro frowned, “You shouldn’t doubt yourself, Keith, you’ve got amazing abilities.”

“No, no.” Keith shook his head, “I know I can _do_ it, but I don’t know if I- there are parts of the job I don’t want to do. That I-” he cut himself off, frustrated. “Let me just tell you the whole story, then you’ll see what I mean.”

Shiro nodded and gestured Keith through to the dining room. “Come sit down and you can tell me all about it over dinner.”

Once the brownies had been safely stowed away on the kitchen counter and everyone was served, Keith started explaining the situation to Shiro.

“So Allura got a call about me featuring in a music video for this pop artist called Florona,” Keith began. “This song they’re shooting is called Safe and Warm, and it’s about this girl who is- she’s hard to love. Or like, has a hard time loving.”

Shiro began to wonder if he shouldn’t put on a pot of tea and have this conversation with Keith settled on the couch and wrapped in a throw blanket.

“I don’t remember exactly how Allura put it,” Keith said, staring down at his plate, “But that was basically it.”

Matt nodded, enraptured, and Shiro gestured for Keith to continue, watching him closely to make sure his younger brother was all right. “I’m supposed to play the part of the love interest in the story. Florona sees me pole dancing in a shady club and she’s like- super into me. I’m supposed to be hesitant at first but then I fall hard.”

Shiro took a cautious bite of his food, focusing more on Keith’s body language than the way dinner tasted in his mouth.

“But then,” Keith stopped for a drink of water, “She leaves me, because she doesn’t want to hurt me and she’s getting in too deep, and because she doesn’t want me to hurt her.” He crossed his arms and mumbled, “Because she’s scared of commitment and loving too deeply and getting hurt or left behind or something.” 

“Keith…” Shiro murmured, not liking how little passion and interest his brother was showing for this potential project.

“Let me finish, Shiro. There’s this break in the music where’s it’s just an instrumental and her vocals, and Allura said that there’s going to be extended cuts of me crying and being hurt at her leaving, and her crying and being hurt over leaving me-” he huffed and then continued, “Then it ends with me back on the pole and looking even more guarded than the beginning of the video.”

Shiro took a moment to think, and then he said, “That’s a pretty dark storyline for someone who’s never acted- and you usually don’t seek out darker stories even for your own creative endeavors.”

Matt stood, sensing this was a conversation for just Keith and Shiro. When he’d met Shiro, Keith had already been with the Shiroganes but even now, years later, Matt still didn’t have a bond with Keith like Shiro did. He’d also never gotten the full story on how Keith had come to be with the Shiroganes in the first place. He’d asked Shiro once, and Shiro had given him a very serious look and said, “That’s something for Keith to tell you. That’s his story and I don’t think he’d appreciate me sharing.”

Keith had never opened up to Matt about his background, and Matt had never felt the need to seek it out, just like he didn’t feel the need now to seek out whatever was the root of Keith’s reserved attitude towards this chance to debut as a dancer and actor.

Shiro caught Matt’s eye as he left, and Matt saw the nearly imperceptible thank you there. 

With Shiro and Keith alone, Shiro spoke up again. “Still, you’ve gotta be excited at the chance to dance in a music video- that’s why you didn’t turn Allura down point blank, right?”

Keith nodded, looking frustrated. “It’s been one of my long term goals to dance for something like this. A year ago I would’ve never dreamed I’d get this opportunity.”

“But?” Shiro asked gently.

“But…” Shiro was almost sure Keith was going to clam up and not say anything, but then his little brother made him proud once again by actually introspecting and finding some of the reasons behind his feelings. “I don’t want to spend two whole days thinking about how I’m hard to love and how anyone who loves me just ends up leaving. That’s not like _anything_ I like to bring to my dance. That’s not anything I like about _me_.”

Keith looked as prickly and uncomfortable as a cat in a water park, while Shiro wanted to climb on top of the table and scream, laugh and cry all at once. His little brother- _Keith_ , Keith I-didn’t-know-I-was-gay-until-you-told-me-I-was Kogane, was talking about his _feelings_!

“Keith,” Shiro murmured, trying to contain his excitement at this potentially earthshaking scientific breakthrough for mankind, “You know that’s not true. You have me and Matt, and everyone at the dance studio, and now everyone at Altea. Hunk and Pidge and Lance. They didn’t find you hard to love at all. They love you wholeheartedly.”

“I know that in my head but...” Keith’s chin was tucked into his chest and his hands were tucked into his ribs, showing how little he wanted to let any of this out. Keith’s method of coping was to shove something so deep down he wasn’t even aware of it. Lord only knew what having to think about all of this for the entire length of a video shoot would do to his poor little psyche. Shiro almost felt sorry for him.

“I know buddy,” Shiro replied. “But the character you’re becoming for the music video- it’s not the truth. It’s never been the truth.” 

He paused for a moment, giving his brother a moment to think before he continued, “Dancing in a music video has been one of your dreams. That fear that the people you love will leave- that’s what the people at the shoot want you to show. They want you to bring that vulnerability to the surface, and then guard it with all you’ve got. You know it’s a senseless fear, but it’s one you’ve got experience with nonetheless. The fact that you know how to play out that story is going to make you able to bring something to this performance that no one else will. Use your past and where you’ve come from to help you in achieving this dream here and make you into who you want to be” 

Keith gave a wry grin. “Or, I could accept the job, show up and shake my hips, and when we get to the hard part ask for some tear drops.”

“I don’t know if the director would go for that,” Shiro chuckled. “But I think the fact that any part of you at all wants to get this job means that you’re ready to try. I think you should do it- accept the job that is.” 

Keith took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “You make a lot of good points, Shiro. Let me just- have some time to think on it?”

While Keith put on a pot of tea and thought things over, Shiro found Matt in their bedroom and kissed him senseless as thanks for giving Keith room. When Matt asked if Keith was okay, Shiro whispered back that he shouldn’t worry and then asked if Matt want to eat brownies and watch Mythbusters reruns with Keith.

Matt, sensing the real underlying request from Shiro to help take care of Keith while he thought over his latest job offer, replied that he would love to, and the night ended with them all swaddled on the couch swapping bits of cookie dough.

~~~

A few days later Keith was sitting in Allura’s office looking over outfit ideas for the music video that combined Kim’s vision and pieces from Voltron’s line and telling Allura whether or not he’d be able to dance in them. 

“This sweatshirt will be fine to dance in,” he said, pointing at a crop top with Voltron’s logo on the front. “This sports bra I can wear for the stripping scene if you want. I don’t really want to try to wear the leggings for that, though. I know the mesh along the sides makes them look sexy but it’ll be really hard to grip the pole.”

Allura nodded and shuffled some of the pictures around on the desk, making notes in her lookbook. “I’ll let Kimberly know that, I think the leggings were our back up choice anyway, she has a pair of shorts she wants you to wear,” she pulled another picture out from the stack and laid it before Keith, “These ones, layered with fishnets?”

Keith snorted, “She had me wear that at the Moe Lolita shoot too. She must really go for that look, huh?”

Allura smiled at Keith as she continued rearranging things, “I think it’s more that such aesthetics are very much in vogue right now and Kimberly owes much of her success as a fashion director and stylist to being able to stay abreast of the trends.”

“Now,” Allura began, putting aside the last of the photos and directing her full attention to Keith, “You’ll be on set the day after tomorrow, and you’re scheduled to be there for both days of filming. They don’t know when exactly they’ll manage to get to the scenes you’re in, so even though you’ll have perhaps only two minutes of screen time total, you’ll have to be there for all of it.” 

She passed Keith the rough schedule for shooting Kim had forwarded to her. “I do know that they’re going to attempt to shoot it from roughly beginning to end, so your shots in the club will be one of the first things on the agenda. They elected not to hire a choreographer after you accepted since you have so much experience and they’re not looking for extensive cuts of your dancing. Do you have any questions?”

Keith thought about it. He was tempted to make a tongue in cheek comment like _could he do the dancing and let someone else do the acting_ , but he knew Allura wouldn’t appreciate such a comment, and that to complain about the job after he’d already accepted it was just unprofessional. So instead, he just shook his head and stood up, shrugging into his motorcycle jacket and telling Allura, “Be prepared to hear great things from Kimberly.”

He was hoping that would be true.

~~~

One thing Keith hadn’t thought about was that here at the video shoot, he wouldn’t be the center of attention. Not that Keith was a diva and wanted all eyes on him, but he was used to having a lot of people telling him where he needed to go, what he needed to do, and generally having lots of helping hands around to guide him.

At this music video though, he was just another stage presence and the only person he knew on the shoot, Kimberly, was so busy wrangling the models and extras into their outfits that she didn’t have any time for Keith.

He’d had to get there relatively early so he could be sitting pretty ready to shoot as soon as the director called for him. Hair and makeup had given him a smokey cat eye and dark lips, much more drama than Keith was used to. His outfit was the Voltron brand sports bra in a dark cranberry layered under the cropped sweatshirt and the shorts and fishnets combo Kimberly had selected for him. One stylist had dolled him up in several thick gold chains and bracelets, and when Kimberly had discovered his ears were pierced she’d immediately called for some gold hoops. She’d also, after he was entirely dressed, had decided to add in a high cut thong whose band could clearly be seen, cutting out his hip bones and peeking through the mesh of the fishnets.

Keith thought he looked good, though the look was a far cry from the masculine persona he usually adapted. There was a vague part of him that worried they might not find his moves on the pole feminine enough for the video’s taste, and he’d spent most of the past hour sitting in his chair off to the side hoping no one tried to talk to him and trying not to worry.

Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, a headsetted assistant turned from the camera station and yelled out to the studio at large, “All right people, we’re ready to start staging and checking camera angles for the club scene. We need the dancer, Keith, and the club extras on set please!”

Keith tried to quell the rush of nerves that rose up in him at the announcement. This was it, he supposed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So let me keep it lowkey real with you. I recently reread the manga arc I'm using for this fic and I'm super inspired and I'm working on it when I can in 600 ish word installments on my lunch break, but. I got a lot going on.  
> My boss is leaving for a new job and I am literally the only other person trained in our computer software, I am co-writing a paper (it's about porn and yaoi wow!) and we're applying for conferences (one in CANADA if we can just get $$$), I am spending the next three weeks as part of pit orchestra for my college's homecoming tradition, and I am taking these next two weeks to finish my Lotor cosplay for con at the end of the month. Plus like classes, music performance, job, self care, etc.
> 
> Chapter 26 is at seven pages right now and hopefully over these next two weeks I can get it to nine, and then It Will Be Postable. I say all of this to just give you guys an understanding that I’m not neglecting this or losing interest, it’s just that my academic and professional career comes first. I feel like a lot of opportunities are coming my way and I'm always going to seize everything I can with both hands, but I also think fic writing is really cathartic and rewarding and it's improved my writing so much. Hopefully I can keep chugging away and all this oversharing will be disgustingly useless. But I just wanted to lowkey let you guys know what's been up that I've been ghosting comments and late to updating. 
> 
> And if that horrifically long essay of an end note didn't turn you away please feel free to share thoughts, typos, or speculations!!! Comments make me feel happier than getting an email from the publisher announcing my poem made the final cut. So seriously. Bring em on.


	25. Ripped Fishnets and Halter Top Bralette in Steamy Magenta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's first full day on set has him building a dark, doomed romance with Florona based off their irresistible attraction to each other, but does the story echo events in Keith's own life a little too closely for him to be able to pull off his first acting job?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I just want to say thank you to every one who commented on the last chapter, because you were all so supportive and kind and understanding and it just totally blew me away. Seriously, thank you. Second, Lotor went amazingly well and it was so much fun to wear. Third, ho boy is my supervisor being gone making my life a living hell and I can't wait til all the homecoming stuff is done. Further updates to come later. Fourth, this chapter got so long it had to get cut in two. Keith has a lot to say! So now each day of the photo shoot is roughly its own chapter. Researching for this arc was a lot of effort, and while I'm not generally one to give suggestions for specific songs and I didn't base this off a particular music video, if you watch Two Feet's video for Go Fuck Yourself muted with Bad at Love by Halsey playing over it instead, you'll know what sort of song combined with what sort of video I'm imagining. Miya_Smith_81 asked about it and I realized there might be other who wanted to know what I had in mind.  
> Fifth, onto the chapter!  
> Note July 3 2018: FANART AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO SEE KEITH DANCING

Well, Keith _thought_ the call to set had been it. When the assistant had called for everyone to get in their places, he thought the cameras would start rolling and they’d immediately get into shooting his scenes. 

That didn’t happen. Instead, Keith was now waiting beside what he was coming to think of as his pole, feeling somewhat ridiculous in his dolled up, haute-couture outfit while camera hands and lighting techies in jeans and t shirts ran around acting like he was another piece of the set.

Who knew that with all the extras in place and Keith on the pole where he needed to be, they had to undergo _another_ round of camera and lighting checks. 

To distract himself while he waited, Keith began doing some simple stretches to warm up his muscles. Once he felt sufficiently limber, he began twirling and twisting around the pole in some easy moves that let him get into the swing of things. When none of the set crew chastised him or asked him to stand still, Keith moved into some simple lifts and began climbing his way up and down the pole. He’d never tried to work a pole in a top this baggy, and he found himself having to rely more on his thighs and less on his arms simply because he couldn’t get the grip he needed out of the soft cotton sleeves. 

He was really beginning to get a feel for things, sashaying in a slow circle around the pole with one hand holding it and the other hooked in the belt loop of his shorts when a breathy, feminine voice said, “Oh god, Kim knew what she was doing when she suggested him, he’s pretty- just like I imagined for this shoot.”

Startled, Keith dropped his grip on the pole and turned around, eyes wide.

In front of him stood a girl with hair somewhere between pink and red, shaved on one side and crimped to hell and back. She looked like Keith as far as the number and size of gold chains she was wearing were concerned, but she wasn’t wearing any Voltron merch. Instead, she was wearing a pair of stiff parachute pants the same pinky red as her hair and a bralette that wasn’t much more than some lace and a halter top. Keith thought she looked like some kind of gang member or hooker, but he guessed it must be working for her if that was what Kimberly had approved.

She spoke, glossy lips flashing in the studio lights, “Hey, you’re Keith, the dancer-choreographer-model guy Kim suggested, right? I’m Florona, it’s cool that you’re here today.”

Keith stepped down and extended a hand to her, “Yeah, I’m Keith. Thanks for letting me dance in your video- and go it myself instead of working with a choreographer.”

She grinned at him and leaned into her hips, “Well I’m not one for dancing in these videos, I like to tell stories more, so I always feel a little guilty hiring choreographers when I don’t really need them. It seems like a misuse of their time and mine, you know? 

Keith thought to himself that she was more down-to-earth than he’d been expecting. “I get that, I’m used to coming up with the routines I dance so that’s gonna be fine for me. I’m more worried about the storytelling part.” He looked off to the side and curled an arm around himself. “I’ve never acted before.”

She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t really call it acting. We’ll just grind on each other and then fake yell and fake cry. You can do that, right?”

Keith nodded and wished her casual assurance would actually do something for his nerves.

Florona and Keith continued to chat until the director called, “All right everyone places! We’re gonna start with some full-body shots of Keith. I wanna get one take all the way through so I can make sure Keith, Florona and I are on the same page, then we're gonna do some panning camera angles and finish off with close ups on his face. I want all the extras dancing, but our main focus right now is on Keith. Everyone got that?”

Florona nodded at Keith and said, “That’s your cue.”

“All right,” The director began, “So we don’t need a full routine from you, we just want your prettiest moves. We’re not looking for anything fancy, just soft, dark and sensuous.” Keith gave a nod and the director settled back into his chair.

He nodded to another assistant off to the side and Florona’s song started playing through the studio’s speakers. The extras on set started dancing while Keith put the pole between himself and the camera, wrapping both his hands around it and throwing his head back. 

He swayed his hips in time to the beat, trying not to think of his moves in advance but instead flow with the dark beat Florona’s song was giving him. He rolled his hips against the pole as he sank smoothly to the floor, and once there he dropped his head to look right into the camera. It was different, staring into the lens and a studio full of people instead of a bank of mirrors or a small group of fellow dancers, but Keith tried to forget all that and just focus on the song.

He found his mind wandering from the studio to Florona’s lyrics, her description of how she was powerless to this enticing presence resonating with him as he rolled his hips and ran a hand down his throat. Keith couldn’t ignore how what she was describing was eerily similar to how he’d felt when he’d first seen Lance. He wondered what that stupidly beautiful, incorrigible boy would think of Keith now, with him looking like someone who belonged beside Lance on all those steamy photoshoots. He wondered if Lance would be as entranced by him as he had by Lance. He wondered exactly what moves would make Lance crazy, what would drive him out of his mind. 

With thoughts like that ringing through his mind, he closed his legs around the pole as he stood up, using his grip to twirl around so that he was now in profile to the camera. He threw the lens a sultry look and a quick ‘come hither’ shake of his head before he started rolling his hips again. This time he rolled his upper body with it too, and his hands snuck under his crop top to pull it off and leave him in only his sports bra. With that off he twirled around the pole again before sinking to the floor in a crouch, his knees up and the lower half of his face hidden behind the arm that was between him and the camera gripping the pole. He let himself stay there a few moments, arching his back but keeping his face nearly expressionless, and when his back uncurled he let his face drop into the crook of his arm again to look out at the camera with what he hooped was an appropriately guarded yet vulnerable expression.

The song’s first chorus belted out into the studio for a few moments before someone turned it off. Immediately Florona squealed and began clapping her hands, “This is really happening! Keith, you’re embodying the mood for this whole shoot and I love it. That was perfect!” She whipped her head to look at the director, jewelry jangling with the movement, “Wasn’t it just perfect?”

The director rubbed his chin and looked at the screen playing back Keith’s routine, “Yeah, that was pretty perfect. If you could give more of a contrast between when you speed up and slow down that would be great, and flash your ass at us at least once, that’ll be a really impactful shot, but other than that, great.”

Keith nodded, grateful for the constructive criticism. He felt in his element right now. Dancing was something he’d done long before he ever thought of Lance McClain, and he’d taken instruction like this from many a dancer and performer who wanted him to bring a vision or a story to life. He didn’t think too much about what it meant that all the dancing he’d done today had been inspired by thoughts of Lance. He told himself that it was just because he was trying to channel the same amount of stage presence, or that he was trying to channel Lance’s same irresistible seduction, not that he was _actually_ dancing with Lance in mind. That would be stupid, it wasn’t like Lance was going to see this, so why should Keith worry what Lance thought of his dancing?

They re-shot the scene with the same camera angles and then there was a brief pause while they debated what angles they wanted to get next. They finally decided on one camera man crouching beneath Keith’s podium to get shots looking up, and one on a boom to focus on closeups of his chest and face. Keith was really beginning to zone out, just listening for the intro and the director's distant calls of instruction.

“Look at the left camera!”

“Close your eyes for me right there!”

“Keep your head back, keep your head back, keep your head back- now let it drop to your chest! Perfect!”

After what must have been at least a half a dozen takes, the director announced they would take a break while they set up to get shots of the nightclub as a whole. Keith welcomed the chance to sit down, and when Florona offered him a water bottle he took it gratefully.

“You look like you’re really enjoying my song,” she said.

“I suppose so,” Keith shrugged. “It’s just a really good to dance to- got a strong bass beat and a lot of different rhythms you can follow.”

She grinned and flipped her hair, the movement making her earrings clatter, “Hey, I’ll take that. You’re dancing to it like it’s your own personal anthem.”

Keith avoided her comment and said instead, “I’m a professional, it’s my job to make these songs look good.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but Keith took another large swig of water to prevent any further attempts at conversation.

When the next round of shooting started, it was just as easy for Keith. Now that he wasn’t the center of attention, he really was able to just lose himself in the music and dance. The cameramen were running wild, trying to get as many different angles as possible within the little three walled set and within the crowd itself.

They broke for lunch, finally, and then it was time to film Florona’s entrance. Keith couldn’t believe they’d already been filming for so long, but he _could_ believe he’d been dancing for that long, his legs were beginning to get a little tired from all the squats. Over a kale salad for Florona and a pita sandwich for Keith, the director explained the next scene. Keith honestly wasn’t listening as intently as he should have been, because he’d never had pita before and when he’d asked what it was Florona had immediately announced he had to try it. He couldn’t decide if he liked the texture or not, and so the pita had his attention in a way the director did not.

“We’re going to film Keith’s reaction to meeting Florona first. Keith, you’re gonna want to go for a wide-eyed, startled look. Like you’re caught off guard and you just can’t look away.” Keith made to answer but realized he had a mouthful of sandwich, so instead he just nodded. 

“Florona, I want you to look immediately taken in. He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen and you want him for your own, then and there.”

She put down her plastic fork and twirled one of her necklaces, “I can definitely do that.”

As Keith returned to his spot to resume shooting, he thought again of seeing Lance for the first time, wondering if Lance would ever look at Keith with the same wonder he’d inspired in Keith on that runway what now seemed like so long ago. If Lance would look at Keith the way Florona was right now. Like he was beautiful- like he was something worth having. 

With thoughts like that swirling around in his head, he found it easy to act unsure as he worked the pole. Imagining Florona as Lance in all of his supermodel glory was probably crossing some kind of mental line, but it was more than enough to keep Keith feeling overexposed, bared in some kind of deeply personal way.

Keith wasn’t thinking about the cameras as he slunk down to the ground, hands above him holding onto the pole as he watched Florona. The hunger in her eyes took Keith by surprise and his wide eyes and parted lips weren’t an act. 

He paused on the pole for a moment, caught helpless like when he’d seen Lance’s utterly confident come-hither smirk on their first lingerie shoot together. He moved towards her like he would move towards Lance if he turned that look on him again, helpless to do anything except what Lance wanted of him. The coy, sensuous smile Keith gave her was a reflection of how he felt every time he saw Lance perform in front of a camera. He knew he was selling a sensual fantasy for the cameras, but he couldn't help but feel there was a little too much of his own feelings for this to be entirely a fantasy. 

He was just sad that was all it could ever be, a fantasy. Lance only gave those kinds of looks to the cameras, and Keith, prickly, awkward, difficult Keith, had managed to catch Lance’s attention because he was decently attractive. He should be glad Lance was even as interested in him as he was. Wanting Lance to watch him, be just as obsessed with Keith as he was with Lance, was the very worst kind of fantasy, the kind that would never be realized and would be ruined with a harsh jolt back to reality.

All these thoughts were running through his mind as Florona approached him. She stopped at the bottom of his podium and Keith couldn’t help himself as he slunk forward on hands and knees to give her a slow, sensuous smile, a bitter tinge to it despite his best efforts because he knew this couldn’t go anywhere good. 

“Cut!”

Both of them blinked, coming back to themselves as the music cut off and their little bubble was burst.

“That was perfect, Keith, just the reaction we need. Florona, you ready for your take?” 

She popped her jacket and flipped her hair, jewelry flashing in the light of the studio, “I was born ready, let’s do this.”

While Keith’s thoughts swirled in the same dark circles reflected by Florona’s lyrics over and over again, the set crew filmed Florona and Keith meeting, dancing against each other in the club with Florona's hands running up and down his sides and Keith's hands tangling in her hair.

He couldn’t help but keep wondering what would Lance think of his movements and what would Lance's hands feel like instead of Florona’s. In a foggy, backlit alley set Florona was ghosting along Keith’s neck and rubbing against his body while Keith stared out at the cameras, dazed and overwhelmed. The vocals crooned about being scared to reach out, about having feelings too big to be safe, about not being able to ever love someone right, and the desperate shine in Keith's eyes was all too easy as he simply reflected on how those words applied to his own feelings about Lance and the uncomfortable in-between space the two were inhabiting, a place Keith had at first thought was more he’d ever get, but was now the last thing he wanted.

 

The last scene was in a huge, satiny bed with Keith sprawled out shirtless and asleep while Florona sang next to him. Keith had done so much dancing that he actually did find himself drifting, grateful for the chance to leave his thoughts behind for a few hours, even with the stop and start of her music in the speakers and the general chaos of the set making for chaotic surroundings.

She must have sung her entire song through fifteen different times before the director and camera crew were satisfied that they’d gotten what they needed, and when Keith finally stumbled into his apartment somewhere around midnight, he found himself humming her lyrics as he fell asleep, thoughts of Lance and not being enough, not having enough, swirling through his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a lot of introspective reading and not too much action, but I hope everyone still enjoyed it. Please feel free to drop a comment if you know of another music video or song this puts you in mind of, or if you just have thoughts on the chapter! I love hearing from you guys and I always do my best to reply to any questions or concerns!
> 
> Note July 3 2018: I received absolutely breathtaking and stunningly talented Alamikz of Keith pole dancing, and you can check it out down below, or right [here](https://alamikz.tumblr.com/post/175518081339/i-decided-to-draw-fan-art-for-an-amazing-fic) at their blog (along with a bonus illustration)! Give them a like and a reblog for being so amazing. Do it!  
> 


	26. Keyhole Cutout Heart Red Lace Bralette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shoot ends with Keith having wowed everyone, even himself, but at just what cost? Was he prepared to think about this part of himself again, or has he put himself in an emotional conundrum only one blue eyed boy in particular can bring him out of?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see how it is, you all SAY you're here for the klance but I put in a pole dancing Keith chapter and suddenly everybody's commenting and my views and kudos are way up- you're all just sluts for pole dancer Keith. I know it. Smh. But it's okay, bc I am too.  
> Anyway, Happy Valentine's Day to my readers, and happy birthday to my sister! I'm home with my family this weekend which is why the chapter is a day late, but I spent A LOT of time editing it until it sounded as good as I can get it, so hopefully it was worth the wait?  
> ~~~  
> Slight trigger warning for those of you that really empathize with characters, Keith has some pretty severe self-loathing and low self-esteem inner monologue, and if you don't want to read that skip from "a small house" to "Keith's face" if you don't want to feel what he's feeling. It's a pretty minor thing but I would want to be warned going in so I could skim and not get panicky so I'm warning you all. BUT HE'S GOING TO BE OK DON'T WORRY

The next morning dawned entirely too early with no remittance in the thoughts swirling through Keith’s mind. He skipped breakfast in favor of a longer shower, and spent his extra fifteen minutes trying to talk sense to himself about not being affected by what was essentially a stupid game of make believe. Unfortunately, he’d never been very good at self-comforting, and when he showed up at set he hoped the haunted look in his eyes passed for being in character.

Today, Kimberly put Keith in a more effeminate bralette than the sports bra from yesterday, this one with a high neck and a keyhole cutout in the crimson lace. The shorts had been traded out for a pair of Voltron joggers that Keith wasn’t even sure could be called that. They hugged his legs from his ankles to his knees, but then around the thighs they were very baggy. He asked Kimberly what sort of vibe this outfit was supposed to give off and all she said was, “Urban heartbreak. Now turn your cheek so I can apply this highlighter.”

Keith thought that name was a little too pretentious- and maybe also a little too accurate.

The set today was a gray backdrop, backlit to make it murky, with some parts in deep shadow and others cast in sharp relief. Florona arrived wearing a bomber jacket around her elbows instead of over her shoulders and another pair of parachute pants that were in a clingy, sheer material. She and Keith both took their places and then the director settled into his chair, giving them a quick heads up on what was about to happen. 

“Now, I’m fully expecting this interlude to take us two or three hours,” he began, “This is the image we want viewers to be unable to forget, so give it everything you’ve got, all right? We’re gonna start with Florona walking away and Keith crumbling to the ground, unable to keep it together. Ready?”

Florona gave a nod, and Keith wished he could crawl back into bed. At this point, he was feeling like Florona had looked into his brain and written his innermost thoughts over a looping bass beat and synth counter melodies. Lance was just so beautiful and Keith just had so many feelings and Florona was absolutely right, love was garbage and relationships were garbage and Keith was garbage too.

He didn’t know if he’d actually be able to do this scene like they wanted. He sure as hell didn’t want to, but he knew what not being loved felt like, and what being left felt like, and he could sure as hell imagine Lance doing it to him. That had to be enough to land him somewhat close to what they wanted.

After one last makeup check and finalized camera positions, someone set a fog machine spewing white smoke with several huge box fans blowing it over the set. Waiting a few moments for things to get appropriately murky, the director then called, “Action!”

Florona turned, gave him one longing look over her shoulder and walked away. Keith didn’t see, too focused on the feelings welling up inside him- all the things he consciously avoided thinking about, the thoughts that always hovered in the back of his mind but that he shoved back as far as they would go.

A small house out in the middle of nowhere, a heavy hand on his head and the soft smell of laundry and soap. Opening the door to that big, dusty barn to find it empty, running out to the road and looking in both directions like he expected to see them coming back at any moment. Middle school graduation, high school graduation, a move across the country, years later and still he’d never been found again. They’d left and never looked back even though there was a part of Keith that wished, every day, that they would.

Shiro, grabbing his hand and bringing him in for a bear hug, promising he’d never leave him and Keith throwing his arms up and yelling for him to get away. Shiro’s steady, unchanging presence in the face of Keith’s volatile grief and anger, always giving love and support no matter how undeserving of it Keith was.

Lance, face soft with sleep, whispering about how he’d been treated by the Galra, Lance giggling, Lance going in for a kiss. Lance looking at the camera like he was challenging the world to take him on. Lance, who’d been nearly broken but only rebuilt himself so unbelievably stronger. How could Keith compare to that? How could Keith expect Lance to stay while Keith learned to love? He wouldn’t ask it of him. He couldn’t.

Keith’s face crumpled and his hands clenched at his chest, tangling in his bralette. He sank to the floor, head tilted back to look up at the cameras and eyebrows knotted. It was the same soft, well-worn hurt that fit over him like an old sweater, always there, ready to slip on whenever he stopped to think about it. Even though the pain was familiar, it still hurt, and involuntarily his lips parted in an inaudible cry.

“And cut!” The director moved from out behind the cameras and approached the set.

There was a rising wave of noise as people checked lighting and cameras, the director watching the footage back, and Keith was glad of the moment to himself so he could blink away his tears and shove his feelings back down, whispering to himself the comforting things Shiro told him over and over like a mantra.

The director looked up from the viewfinder of the closest camera, “Keith, that was perfect.”

Florona, off to the side, said unthinkingly, “Jesus christ, kid, what kind of acting classes did you take?”

There was a tense moment of quiet in the otherwise loud hubbub of the studio as Keith’s eyes widened, visibly caught off guard by the question.

His shoulders tensed and he crossed his arms, “Can we film the next take now?”

Florona took several takes, which was honestly a good thing for Keith because he spent that time sitting in a chair off to the side with his earbuds in, trying to forget everything that had just happened. He was good at not thinking about things. He was a pro at it. Shiro said he was emotionally constipated, but Keith just thought of it as compartmentalizing. 

He didn’t want to think about something so he didn’t- why would he? Those memories were all the grossest parts of himself, all the things that reduced him to that small eight year old looking at the horizon and watching for people who never showed. That ungrateful twelve year old who threw love back in the face of those who tried to give it to him. He didn’t want to be reminded of that part of himself, so he pushed those thoughts as far away from himself as possible. Simple as that. Or at least, it should be, but those fifteen seconds left him feeling like someone had scraped him raw on the inside.

A makeup assistant eventually found him and led him back to Kimberly who dressed him in a much more somber, edgier look similar to his first one, and after a few more takes of him on the pole but looking even more hurt and guarded than the beginning of the video (which wasn’t hard) he was free to go. 

He got home early enough that night that he could’ve eaten dinner if he’d wanted, but it took everything in Keith to merely take his clothes off before he curled under his comforter, and he didn’t even want to think about eating.

~~~

A week and a half later, Allura was gushing over Keith’s performance and there wasn’t a single part of him able to enjoy the praise. The inside of his brain was a jumbled mess of Keith’s new and old insecurities, worries about Lance and remembrances of his childhood mixing together to make Keith scrabble for emotional stability. Allura’s words went in one ear and out the other. Keith could really use some positivity, but her compliments sloughed off him like water. He was only shaken out of his inner musings when Hunk, Lance and Pidge all wandered into the room. 

“Hey, Keith, I didn’t think you had anything booked for today,” Lance said congenially.

“What,” Pidge grinned, “You keep track of his schedule?” 

Lance stuck out his tongue and made to respond but Hunk, always the peacekeeper, interjected, “Hello you two, I hope we’re not interrupting anything?”

Allura shook her head and sat back in her chair, “You’re not interrupting anything at all. I was just telling Keith about the glowing reviews everyone at the music video he was cast for has given him.”

“Wait, really?” Lance asked skeptically. “This guy was asked to be in a music video? What, did they need a mannequin with a mullet?”

“No, Lance,” Keith said, opening his mouth for the first time since the trio had entered. Trust Lance to drag Keith into the conversation, even if it was unwillingly, “They needed a love interest. I had to _act_.” He said primly, clearly feeling this was a big accomplishment that would leave Lance blown out of the water. Hunk had to stifle a smile at how cute it was the way Keith looked proud of himself, and the way Lance looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be happy for him or tease him. 

In the end, Lance eschewed earnestness in favor of being a dick, and he crossed his arms and said, “I don’t believe it. Until I see the tape, I don’t think it happened.”

Keith turned expectantly to Allura, who smiled uncertainly and said, “I really shouldn’t show you, but Kimberly sent us an unfinished version of the music video along with her comments about Keith. If you all agree to keep quiet about this, I suppose we can have a preview party.”

The darker haired model sat back in his chair, smirk on his face, while Lance blustered before throwing himself down in the other chair beside Keith and saying, “Well! Let’s see it then.”

Allura pulled it up and silently turned the monitor towards the four person audience while Hunk lowered the blinds and Pidge made sure the door was closed. When the office was quiet and dark Allura tapped the spacebar, slow bass beats and Florona’s husky voice whispering in through the speakers. 

It was interesting to Keith, seeing which parts of their shooting had made the final cut and which hadn’t.

The movie opened with Florona singing on the floor of the club before it cut to Keith, hips rolling against the pole and eyes beseeching the camera for release. It cut back to Florona, then Keith, then their meeting. It showed them rubbing against each other in a backlit, smoky alley- Keith remembered the fog machine- Florona murmuring her lyrics against Keith’s throat while he looked up at the sky with hazy eyes. No one but Keith knew he’d been thinking of Lance. He looked away from the monitor rapidly, hoping he wasn’t blushing. When he looked back, Florona was singing on the bed, Keith curled up beside her. He hadn’t realized how openly sensuous that scene was, but with his tousled hair and the lipstick smears hair and makeup had put on his throat, he looked thoroughly debauched.

Finally, after three verses and a chorus about her unhealthy relationships, the music video showed what everyone had been waiting to see. Florona walking away, her shoulders strong but her face broken, the sorrow on Keith’s face making it nearly unrecognizable. 

Keith had declined to see it played back to him on the monitors at the set, so he hadn’t realized just how heartbroken he looked, but when his face crumpled Hunk gave a sharp intake of breath. When Florona’s voice broke octaves with shuddering vibrato, Keith’s body shuddered with in an echo of her heartbreak. It cut to her with her hands over her mouth, but while she looked sad, Keith looked absolutely destroyed. 

Even as she sang about how this hurt her as much as it did him, their acting didn’t quite show it that way. It cut back to Keith at the club, more closed off than ever, and Keith felt that could be a reflection of how he felt after shooting that video. 

The movie ended and no one said anything, Allura mutely turning the monitor back towards her and Pidge reopening the blinds wordlessly.

Finally, Lance said, “Wow. I wanted to make a joke about how they cast you for a pretty face but that was too fuckin’ good to joke about. Those Galra classes sure paid off. Also, someone should have warned me there would be pole dancing.” He laughed, an attempt to lighten the mood in the room, “Dancing like that should come with a warning.”

“Why,” Keith teased tonelessly, “See something you like?” He hoped his smile reached his eyes. He really didn’t want to talk about this right now, especially with the boy who’d been the inspiration for so many of those moves but also for so many of those faces.

Lance looked pretty taken aback at Keith’s comment, so the dark haired model had no idea whether he’d pulled it off or not, but before he could continue, Allura jumped in, “I have a meeting in ten minutes, so if you three have something to tell me, you’d better talk while I walk to the conference room.”

Hunk shook his head, “Nope, we were just coming into say hello. We can leave now.” He started hustling Pidge and Lance towards the door.

Keith also stood up, “If she’s leaving, I’m leaving. I don’t have anything else to do here today.”

“Oh. Okay then,” Hunk smiled but didn’t stop hustling Lance and Pidge.

The four of them headed out, Allura gathering her papers behind them, and when they reached the main hall the trio turned for the main offices while Keith made for the elevators. 

As he watched him go, Lance said, “I didn’t know he had it in him. You’d never know he wasn’t a trained actor.”

Hunk followed Lance’s gaze with an inscrutable expression, “No, I really don’t think there was any training in that.”

Lance turned around, ready to defend his fellow model, but Hunk put up his hands to preemptively placate him, “I know he’s talented. That was an amazing performance above and beyond anything I ever expected. I’m not saying I doubt that. I’m saying I’m not sure any of that was a response he was coached into giving. Hear me out guys, tell me I’m crazy.”

Pidge and Lance slowed, the three of them now huddled up in a side corridor while they listened to Hunk express his concerns, “Think about it… the Galra wouldn’t give acting classes to a model. What would he use it for? The Galra hate wasted effort more than anything, they wouldn’t have done that with Keith. I don’t think he would’ve taken acting classes.”

Hunk turned to look at Lance, who was staring at him with wide eyes, “I think, and this is just speculation, I don’t know- maybe Allura did throw him into some sort of crash course beforehand- but that emotion that played out... I think it was real. I don’t think he would _be able_ to fake it.”

Lance frowned, “Allura wouldn’t send him out there and get that sort of emotional payout back and not say anything, right? And we’ve never looked at Keith’s resume, he could very well know how to act.”

“Well,” Hunk began, “Maybe she’s said something, just not to us. I’ll ask her later. Maybe it’s nothing, maybe Keith can act and he’s just so good I was taken in by it and thought that it wasn’t. Maybe I’m seeing something where there’s nothing.”

Pidge, who’d been quiet and contemplative for much of Hunk’s explanation, finally weighed in, “He didn’t rise to Lance’s bait once, except to flirt back, but even then he was totally unaffected by it. Normally when Lance comes on to him he reacts like a cat sprayed with water. He also didn’t seem that excited at all to see the video, or our reactions. I’d say you have a right to be worried, Hunk.”

She scrunched up her nose, “From what I’ve known of Keith, he seems like a pretty straight forward guy. The emotional intricacies of a scene that painful and raw seem like something that would go right over his head. If I had to guess how Keith would try to _act_ out a scene of someone leaving him, what we got in that video would be pretty far down on the list. But if you were to ask me how an closed-off, passionate guy like Keith would _actually react_ to being hurt in the worst possible way- then I might say something along the lines of that music video.”

Lance, Pidge and Hunk all looked at each other, then down the hallway where Keith had disappeared. They were beginning to realize just how little they knew about him, but they knew enough that they should be worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I know you're like, stressed right now, but trust me, I'm taking this to a place so good I'll be spoon feeding you fluff and smut and angst and you'll be gorging on emotional vulnerability, feelings, and killer punk aesthetics. Stay tuned and don't worry. I know what I'm doing.
> 
> (I don't but hopefully saying that makes you feel better.)
> 
> (also thank masteripad for the subtle spelling change in our title they've been a champ with providing constructive positive feedback about improvements and I want to thank them from the very bottom of my heart so they get a gold star.)


	27. Nightmares and Sweet Dreams Teddy and Babydoll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance are surrounded by people who care about them, and who decide to intervene on Keith's behalf- in somewhat unexpected ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter Is A Day Late Because I Decided To Watch Season Five Instead Of Update and I Do Not Regret It. Thank You.
> 
> My life has really calmed down as of right now and I'm actually a scene or two into chapter 29. I'm getting ahead again! Holla!
> 
> I hope everyone really enjoys this story arc and this chapter, I love you guys so much and I know I say it like every time but your support really does mean so much to me!˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

Lance lasted approximately two hours before he was running the music video through his head again. 

To his credit, he’d stayed _solely_ worried about Keith for about half an hour- but then he’d remembered the fishnets and he’d had a little bit of a daydream. Just a teensy bit of a reminisce. Lance had a thing for curves and seeing those stockings dig into the softness of Keith’s thighs had done things to Lance that had made it very hard to appreciate all of the other gorgeous things that had happened in that music video. Of which there were many. The cut of that thong, the smokey eyes- there was a lot to appreciate.

Lance lasted an hour before he first thought about asking Allura when the official video would release- just out of curiosity. He wasn’t dwelling on it, there were just a few key frames that had really caught his eye and he’d like to see again. 

At the two hour mark Lance was standing at his balcony staring out over the city and attempting to burn every miniscule detail of that music video to memory. Lance’s dignity and good sense were fighting a losing battle against the desire to text Allura. 

It had been a really good video. When he’d heard Keith could pole dance, he didn’t think it would be quite like _that_. Normally male pole dancers were all sharp moves and raw masculinity in a bid for married women to scream and throw their panties at them. Keith hadn’t been any of that. He’d just gone boneless and rolled against that pole like he was born for it and Lance hated himself for thinking it but he wondered if that’s how Keith rode dick.

Because if it was, Lance’s life was going to get infinitely harder. Literally and figuratively.

Lance groaned and scrubbed his hands in his hair before heading inside. He scooped up his phone from where it rested on the couch and fired off a text to Allura. What was the worst that could happen, she said no?

After an absolutely humiliating exchange in which Allura teased Lance so thoroughly before sending him the video that he almost didn’t want it anymore- almost- Lance got halfway through pulling the video up on his phone before he gave into temptation and got his laptop instead. The few second wait for the video to load felt like an eternity, and Lance found himself filled with the same sort of impish glee that came from acting out or misbehaving. 

He told himself there was technically nothing wrong about what he was doing, but at the same time he knew he’d have to quit his job and move to another country the moment Allura decided to tell anybody he’d done this. If Keith ever found out, Lance would have to commit ritual suicide and tell Hunk to dump his ashes in the Atlantic where no one would ever bear witness to his shame.  
Despite saying all that and knowing this was a bad idea just waiting to come back and haunt him, Lance clicked the play button as soon as it popped up. The first time, he watched it straight through, still having a hard time believing it was Keith. The second time, he paused it and took screenshots every time Keith changed outfits, sets, or even just struck a particularly… good pose. He very consciously avoided thinking too deeply about the ramifications of his actions. Now was not the time for Lance to question his moral integrity and his degree of patheticness, it was just his time to stare at Keith’s toned stomach as he worked himself up a pole with just the strength in his thighs. God Lance was so gay.

The third time though, Lance found himself watching Keith’s face, not his body. Hunk’s words wormed their way to the forefront of Lance’s mind, and with every haunted look Keith gave to the camera, Lance became more convinced there was something to Hunk’s theory. At first, he’d skipped over Keith’s acting in favor of staring at his outfit and the way the lacy bralette clung to him so appealingly, but now that the thought was in his head Lance could see it for himself.

Any feelings of mischievous ogling trickled out of Lance’s mind as he pressed the replay button again. There was something there. He was sure of it.

~~~

Hunk really should have just let it go. If he was a self-involved person like everyone else, he would have, but no, Hunk was a worrier. He worried and he fretted and he knew he should just keep his nose out of other people’s business but he couldn’t help it. 

The thing was, Keith’s performance and standoffish behavior just wouldn’t leave Hunk’s head. He knew, logically, that Allura had done nothing wrong in allowing Keith to take that job, and that Keith was just sporting a furrowed brow and a sad pout for the camera, but it left him so worried it eventually ended up being his main train of thought two evening jogs in a row. That was when he called Shiro and asked to get brunch together, just to assuage his worries.

Hunk just wanted to hear that Keith was fine and dandy so he could move on with his life only thinking about when he’d next be able to make it down to that corner deli and see if they’d changed the dill to paprika ratio on their devilled eggs. Those were the sorts of things he _wanted_ to be worried about. Fun things. Not- well, not worrying things. 

And if something actually was wrong with Keith? Well, Hunk didn’t let himself think about that, because he didn’t have the faintest idea what he would do to help.

Shiro had been more than open to a brunch date- they were both millennials so _of course_ they got brunch, for once Hunk was living out the stereotype, not Lance- and in a bright window booth over poached eggs and mimosas Hunk debated how to ask Shiro about his brother’s emotional stability and mental health. 

Thinking over the subject matter at hand again, Hunk wondered if he shouldn’t have invited Shiro to coffee instead. Coffee sounded much more serious and suited to a heavy topic like family issues. Hunk was pretty sure that family issues fell into a group labelled ‘conversation topics too heavy for brunch’. He was going to have to be very delicate in bringing this up.

“The amount of natural light in this place is amazing,” Shiro said, completely oblivious to Hunk’s internal conundrum. “They don’t have any fluorescents on and it’s almost noon.”

“Oh yeah,” Hunk nodded, cutting into his guava and quiche breakfast bagel sandwich, “That’s one of the things that first drew me to this place, all the large windows. Here,” he held out his fork to Shiro, “You have _got_ to try this sandwich, the flavor profile is like nothing I’ve ever encountered.”

Shiro chewed for a moment before nodding enthusiastically, “Wow, that’s amazing.”

Hunk grinned, “Yeah, it kinda is. I think I have a knack for finding these kinds of things. No biggie.”

Shiro looked down at his own plate of bacon and waffles and said, “I wish I could offer you something in return, but I’m pretty sure you’ve tasted all this stuff before.”

Hunk waved one hand and took a sip of his mimosa with the other, “That’s fine, Shiro, I didn’t invite you out for food today.”

Shiro immediately perked up and Hunk winced, wondering if his wording had been too on the nose, “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Er, well- how to begin...” Hunk wondered aloud.

Shiro’s face remained slack for a moment before he grimaced and said, “Oh no, what did Keith do?”

Hunk paused, taken aback at Shiro’s wild leap in logic, but Shiro took his silence for confirmation and his face paled. “Listen, Keith’s got a good heart, he’s just not socialized very well, he went through a lot as a kid and he’s still got a lot of that awkwardness, I’m not saying that’s an excuse but I am saying that I’m sure whatever he did to Lance wasn’t permanent and was spur of the moment and- why are you laughing?”

Hunk stifled his chuckles, “Well, Keith didn’t _do_ anything, first of all. Sorry to make you think something so serious.” He paused to take another sip of his mimosa, “But I am wondering about Keith. And about- how he’s doing. After that last gig. What with his first time acting being something so serious and everything.”

“Well,” Shiro rested his chin on his interlaced fingers, “He might have been a little out of sorts lately. Nothing concrete enough for me to really take notice of it, but. He’s definitely been- a little out of it. I figured something had happened with Lance. Do you think it was his last job?”

Hunk hesitated, poking at the yolk of his egg, “I just know that actors get into pretty dark head spaces for gigs a lot, but there aren't always people on the other side to help them normalize again- like, no one sits down and talks through what they were feeling. It’s kinda like kinky sex without after care.”

Hunk looked up to see Shiro’s eyes gone wide and his face pink from the bridge of his nose to the tips of his ears. “Oh, sorry, was that weird for you? God I’m sorry that was probably so weird for you forget I said anything-”

“No no,” Shiro interrupted. “I get what you’re saying. And that is a rather apt- if _risque_ metaphor. If I’m understanding you correctly, you’re saying Keith might need someone to talk to after the shoot and that’s why he’s been so standoffish?”

“I’d say he needs to open up and talk about it- really talk about it.” Hunk shrugged, “But that’s my go-to first step for nearly every situation.”

Shiro nodded, it being his turn to contemplate his food. “I don’t think Keith will open up to me about this. For a lot of reasons. He’s gotten a lot better at coming to me about stuff since he’s got this job, but that just makes me think that if he was going to come to me he would have done it already. I think. Does that make sense?” He scrubbed his prosthetic hand through his hair. “I don’t know.”

Hunk nodded understandingly, “Do you think he’d open up to me?”

Shiro fiddled with a straw wrapper. “Honestly, it’s anybody’s guess. It’d depend on what day of the week you got him, how tired he was, what food he’d eaten most recently. Keith is finicky.”

Hunk hummed. “Do you think maybe this is something he needs to work through for himself? I hate not being able to _do_ anything but I recognize that there are some things people need to think through on their own.”

“I don’t think Keith _could_ work through it on his own- he has the emotional sensibility of this salmon fillet- but I also don’t think he has anyone in his life right now that he could open up to in that way.”

Before Hunk could reply, the waitress dropped off their bill. On their way to the door, Shiro’s phone chirped, announcing he’d gotten a text.

“It’s from Keith,” he said

~~~~

Three full days after Allura had shown the music video and after Lance had watched it approximately two hundred times, he got a call from one particularly savvy business woman with an offer he physically couldn’t refuse.

“Why hello, Allura, I don’t know what I’ve done to earn the pleasure of your voice but whatever it is I promise it wasn’t my fault,” Lance announced, falling back into his couch and hoping she wasn’t calling because she was angry.

“Of course not Lance.” The false cheer in her voice had Lance sitting up straight and immediately paying more attention. He was terrified- this was the voice Allura used when she was trying to get Lance to do something that he didn’t want to do. This was the voice that meant it’s-for-your-own-good-so-shut-up-and-do-it. 

“What do you need, Allura?” he asked. Better to get it over with quickly, like ripping off a band aid, or accepting death by firing squad. 

His boss’s voice was steel when she answered, “I’m calling in that favor, Lance.”

Lance couldn’t help his childish groan. He knew that Allura would never forget a favor, but he was hoping she’d use it on something relatively normal. Allura’s attitude right now meant that whatever this favor was, she knew Lance wouldn’t like it.

“Why nooow, Allura? I just finished that big job for you in Quebec, can’t I have some time for myseeelf?”

“Lance you are a fully grown adult in his twenties and considered a professional in his field. Do not _whine_ at me.”

“I wouldn’t whine at you if you didn’t do mean things to me,” Lance snipped.

“Please just listen to me and _try_ not to be dramatic for one moment. This is a job only you can do.” There was a pause and then the faux charm in Allura’s voice was intensified by ten and Lance felt a cold chill eviscerate his spine. “And you wouldn’t want Kaltenecker to be evicted from her lovely country cottage stall, right? You haven’t even had a chance to visit her, it would be awful if she had to go back to that New England slum passing for a farm.”

Lance cursed under his breath and put aside his whining in favor of listening closely to Allura’s instructions.

~~~

Lance’s love for Kaltenecker was how he found himself standing at one of the many upscale hotels in downtown L.A., standing in front of one of Altea’s company cars, holding a sign that said Akira, wondering why Allura was suddenly using her best model as a glorified valet. He waited patiently the first five minutes, then impatiently the next ten, and then he called Allura to complain.

When she answered she sounded depressingly cool and disinterested. “What is it, Lance, did something happen?”

“This Akira guy,” Lance began, shoving one hand in his pocket and wedging his sign under his arm, “He’s not coming. Or at least, I can’t find him- I’ve been standing outside for at least fifteen minutes.”

“Oh!” Allura responded lightly, “That would be because I changed his hotel accomodations. He’s waiting for you by the Colonnade.”

Lance’s heart dropped. “What? That’s forty five minutes on the other side of the city, Allura!” 

“I pushed back the meeting time by twenty minutes, which should have given you plenty of time,” Allura replied, entirely too blasé for the situation.

“I’ll never be able to pick him up on time,” he moaned.

As Lance hustled himself into the car and told the driver their new destination, he asked Allura, “How am I supposed to know the guy anyway? Can you tell me anything distinctive about him?”

“Oh, you won’t need to worry about that. You’ll spot him right away,” She hummed thoughtfully, “One person in particular will give off an aura that he means no harm.”

Then she laughed, leaving Lance blinking owlishly and wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean.

“And one more thing, before I forget!” Allura continued, “He’s very punctual and a little temperamental, so really do try not to be late. He’s also more excitable than he looks, so don’t be surprised if he’s very- passionate.”

Lance knew enough about PR to realize that she was saying this Akira guy was difficult, finicky and short-tempered, and he was more anxious than ever about being late.

“Good luck, Lance. I’ll be in meetings all day today, so don’t call me if you have any questions!” And with that, Allura hung up, leaving Lance to stare out the window and plan his funeral.

When the car pulled up to the Hilton, Lance was pretty sure there was only one person who could conceivably be the person Allura wanted him there to meet. But Lance wasn’t _entirely_ sure, because the lone figure sitting outside the hotel looked like the exact opposite of what Allura would usually work with. 

The people walking past consciously steered clear of the guy and Lance could see some of the upscale people whispering to each other, likely wondering just how _this_ kind of person ended up in front of such an affluent hotel without being moved by security.

Lance frowned, taking in the heavy duty black boots that looked like they could crush somebody’s skull in and the long cowl-necked robe that was giving off some really heavy grim reaper vibes, especially with the hood up like it was and with the guy glaring out from under it at anyone who walked past, the nearly feral glint in his eyes barely visible through his fringe.

It looked like Lance McClain’s nose job would be occuring much sooner than planned because this guy was going to smash his face in for being a half hour late, he just knew it. He gave one last despairing look around the plaza, seeing if there was anyone else who fit Allura’s description and looked like they might be waiting for someone. Unfortunately, the hot topic model gone serial killer was the only one who could possibly be who Allura meant.

He steeled himself and started towards him, wondering if he should shield his face from a punch with those tendons showing in his forearms, or if he should instead curl up on the ground and protect his kidneys from a kick with those sculpted calves- those suspiciously familiar calves, and _definitely_ familiar forearms. In fact, taking a second look, the hair was hiding a lot of the face, but that tilt to the chin was one Lance had seen before, when it was plastered all over L.A. as part of a certain jeans ad featuring a model whose body Lance knew better than he’d perhaps like to admit.

He called out, “Keith?” still doubting a little that this was indeed his dear friend and hopeless crush.

The figure turned his gaze on Lance, and the model got the unsettling feeling of being an insect pinned to a board. Or a human sacrifice bound to the altar. He took a step back, he couldn’t help it, his eyes going wide. Ok, so maybe it wasn’t Keith.

The guy stood up, looking like he was going to get right into Lance’s face. The model let out a terrified squeak and fell flat on his ass. He saw the heavy boot in the air coming towards him and Lance squeezed his eyes shut, cursing Allura for sending him on this suicide mission. 

But several seconds passed and all Lance felt was a cool breeze brush over his face. He opened his eyes only to see the shocked faces of some passersby, no scary guy in sight. So he hadn’t stepped on him, only over him. Maybe it really was Keith after all?

Lance stood up, looking somewhat like a baby deer as he struggled to get his feet under himself. He wandered down the street towards the still waiting car, wrapping his arms around himself in a bid for comfort. 

Lance thought to himself that even if that body had looked familiar, that couldn’t have been Keith. Whoever that guy had been, he’d worn his murderous intent like a shield, impenetrable armor that didn’t show a trace of his feelings, so unlike Keith who Lance had come to realize had his heart on his sleeve.

Lance was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice the dark figure in the alley until their hand shot out, covered his mouth, and wrenched him back into the alley. Lance looked into the eyes of the scary guy from before like he was looking into the face of doom. When the guy’s scowl only deepened Lance eeped and shook his violently to try to get loose. 

When his hand came loose, Lance gave a gasp and then started blabbering, “I’m sorry dude, I didn’t mean to offend! Please don’t punch me, Allura won’t pay for reconstructive surgery and I can’t afford a good surgeon! I’m sorry I talked to you and mistook who you were and annoyed you and I’m sorry you’re in a bad mood and that I’m taller than you and that Allura’s a weird boss!”

Lance cut himself off when he realized the things he was now apologizing for might be digging himself a deeper hole. But the guy holding him was just guffawing, his whole body shaking with quiet chuckles. He ruffled Lance’s hair, which was an action so unexpected that Lance froze.

Then, the guy, his warm voice reassuringly familiar to Lance, “Hey, don’t worry. I’m not gonna punch you. Allura would never forgive me.”

Lance grinned, turning to face this person who did indeed seem like he meant no harm. Leaning into him, Lance grinned, “Keith?”

The other model nodded shyly and tugged at his spiked collar. “Yeah. You like the look?”

“Uh, I’m sorry, what?” Lance squawked, flabbergasted.

“Hey, keep it down. I’m on a top secret mission here. You can’t blow my cover.”

The smile Keith gave Lance was so much more powerful because its tenderness was surrounded be ferocity that Lance felt like he might just go ahead and die anyway, because Keith was killing him with cuteness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sister said the kinky sex metaphor was out of character for Hunk, but I liked it too much to cut. What do you think? OOC or not? OOC and worth it? OOC and definitely NOT worth it? Talk about it in the comments. Also talk about WHAT is going to happen next???? What's happening??? Keith in leather and spikes? Allura threatening Kaltenecker? Lance watched Keith's video 200 times in three days? Share your thoughts, I want to hear them!


	28. Off the Shoulder Pink Sweater Perfection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura sets her plan for Keith and Lance in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOY OH BOY WE GOTTA SET UP SOME MORE PLOT HAHA HOPE YOU LIKE DIALOGUE BOYS AND GIRLS
> 
> If you wanna know what Keith is wearing you can just look up "ren tsuruga cain heel" and you'll be treated to a Look Book of Terror

Two weeks before Allura called in her favor with Lance, she was on the phone with a promising television production looking to combine current trends with a compelling, addictive story line to produce next season’s biggest hit TV show, and they wanted to get Voltron in on it.

Allura was flattered, but she couldn’t say she was surprised. After all, Voltron was making a stir. Their billboards and products were everywhere; Voltron was well on its way to being on par with Pink or Nike, and the paladins were becoming just as popular. The producer had a supporting role open for a character that would last a few episodes, and the role would suit either Shiro or Keith, whichever paladin was more open to it.

She spent the next two weeks talking the offer over with her staff, considering whether TV acting was really an avenue they wanted the paladins pursuing, how this job could backfire on them, whether or not their models even had the acting talent necessary to complete such a job. To her knowledge, neither Shiro nor Keith had taken acting classes, and in the end she and her team decided it wasn’t worth the effort of getting them acting skills when they weren’t really considering using acting as a marketing ploy. Allura had made plans to call the producer back and turn him down the very same day she saw Keith’s music video.

She was floored. When she’d taken Keith on, it was because he was the masculine end of the androgynous spectrum that she had Lance occupying, and she’d known that nothing motivated Lance like healthy competition. Her instinct had been absolutely right; Keith and Lance were sensational and groundbreaking together, and they both pushed each other to be their very best whether they realized that or not. 

She hadn’t taken Keith on because of his acting skills- she hadn’t known he had them. She’d thought of him as a performer, yes, able to provide looks and poses for a photographer, but to see him giving this performance to a director made her see him in a whole new light. 

Two days after she’d shown the video to the rest of the paladins and to her marketing and P.R. team, she’d decided to call Keith and offer him the job. When she called, he told her he’d have to talk it over with Shiro, which wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was Shiro and Hunk showing up at her office not an hour later, both looking extremely worried.

“What has you two looking so upset?” She asked, standing from her desk and moving to greet them.

“We’re a little worried about a certain black haired paladin,” Hunk began.

“Keith texted me barely thirty minutes ago worrying about another acting job you’ve encouraged him to take on, but I don’t know if these gigs are really the best thing for him” Shiro explained, “You’re putting him under a lot of emotional duress he’s never had to handle before. He’s never been trained to do this kind of thing.”

Allura paused and took in Shiro’s words before saying, “I’m glad you’ve brought this to my attention.”

“When I saw his performance I was sure that he had sufficient acting talent and that he’d simply neglected to say anything.” She frowned, “Even now I find it hard to believe that his response _wasn’t_ coached.” She looked up at Shiro, “Are you sure no one’s taught him how to give that kind of performance?”

Shiro nodded, “Absolutely. I was worried for him going into the shoot, but no more worried than I’ve been for any other job, but now I have legitimate hesitations about letting him do that again.”

Hunk chimed in, “It’s just, if he’s not doing all of this acting stuff right, it could get really unhealthy really quick. Shiro and I have both noticed that he's been quieter than usual this week, and we wondered if it might have something to do with the shoot. I think going forward, it wouldn't be a bad thing for Keith to have some sort of emotional support or outlet or something- maybe even an acting coach.”

The trio collectively took in Hunk’s words before he continued, “I’m not saying you have to take this job away, we’re just saying we want to do it as safely and as healthily as possible.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Allura tapped her fingers on her desk, “I know I’ve already apologized once, but I’ll apologize to you again, Shiro, I had no idea this had happened. Keith is already so shut off in his daily life I hadn't really recognized a difference.” She paused for a moment, the wrinkle between her brows telling the others she was thinking, “Lance seems to be the only one who can bring him out of his shell and show us what Keith is feeling.”

“You’re telling me,” Shiro grimaced.

“Unfortunately, now that Keith knows about the job I can’t very well take it back with no explanation, not without some degree of dishonesty, which is not how I handle my models.” Allura’s twiddling fingers belied her concerns over the situation. “If I told him the truth, that I don’t think he’s emotionally trained to handle this role, he might turn around and very well insist that he accept it.”

Hunk rubbed his chin, “Is it a dark role like his music video one was though? Because if it wasn’t such a dark performance then maybe Keith could take acting lessons or get some counseling sessions while he’s doing the role.”

“Unfortunately, this role is just as dark if not more so. He’s playing a troubled youth- the outcast of the story.”

Shiro winced, “That’s gonna hit pretty close to home for him.”

Allura leaned back in her chair and gave a great sigh, “So what should we do? We can turn down the job and upset Keith, we can tell Keith that he can accept the job only if he also accepts help with his mental wellbeing and upset Keith, or we can let him take the job and continue to struggle to handle himself on his own. That would make Keith most upset of all.” She tugged her lower lip between her teeth, “This is an awful dilemma, what have I gotten us into?”

“What if we sent someone with him to support him on the shoot?” Hunk suggested, “I think getting him counseling might be a little too drastic of a move, he’s just having trouble getting out of a dark headspace, not reliving trauma over and over again, and I also don’t think he’d accept it, but he might accept a companion with him on set. Someone to pull him out of his headspace so he doesn’t stay locked in his own mind everyday. Especially if we didn’t make it an option.”

“That actually is a pretty great idea, Hunk,” Shiro said. “Only problem is who do we send? I can’t just take off from work for more than a day or two, and I’m guessing that if his character features in multiple episodes it won’t just be a one day affair.”

“Oh no,” Allura shook her head, “I’m planning on putting him up in a hotel on location for a full week or two.”

Shiro winced, “Yeah, I can’t do that. Hunk, what do you think?”

“As much as I would like to _say_ I’m the next best choice, I actually think there’s a paladin better suited than me.”

Allura gave a bright smile and tapped the side of her nose, “I think I know just who you’re talking about. Stubborn enough that he won’t let Keith sulk, sweet enough that he’ll provide all the support Keith could need, and indebted to me for one favor of any kind.”

She reached for her phone. It barely rang once before she was connected and she looked up to Hunk and Shiro with a gleam in her eye, “Of course not, Lance!” 

There was a slight pause as she listened, and then she leaned back in her chair again, her free hand tapping away on the table. “I’m calling in that favor.”

~~~

Then, after all that drama, she sent Lance to pick up Keith and her alone time at the gym was cut short by a Lance who’d realized Keith’s identity and a Keith who didn’t know what to do about it.

“Well, Keith, I’ll admit I expected to see you back here, but I didn’t think it would be quite this soon,” she said, voice bouncing from her brisk jog on the treadmill. “Did you forget that I told you your identity was top secret until the end of filming?” 

She took a swig of water before continuing, “How is the announcement that a Paladin of Voltron was secretly cast on the show supposed to stay a secret if you tell everyone you meet?”

Keith shrugged his hood farther down his face and glared out the window. With all the makeup and the new hairstyle, he didn’t look sheepish, but instead like he was planning a murder. 

Lance, watching from the side, was lowkey turned on and extremely embarrassed that he was lowkey turned on. 

“What was I supposed to do?” Keith muttered, “He looked terrified when he saw me for the first time.”

That was a note of sheepishness in Keith’s voice that had Allura grinning. These two were good for each other. This was going to work perfectly.

“Well I did plan to explain everything to Lance sooner or later, so I suppose everything works out,” She cut her eyes over to the taller model in question, “Lance, since I can’t very well accompany Keith to set as his manager- since the poparazzi would jump on that quicker than Pidge on a software update- I want you to go in my place. We’ll disguise you of course, much like Keith is.”

“You want me to look like a mass murderer?” Lance asked.

Allura paused her treadmill, looking out at Lance from beneath the towel she ran across her forehead. “No, I think a softer look would do you good.”

She stepped off the treadmill, “Let me call Kimberly.”

~~~

When Lance entered the makeup room to see a sensible looking African American woman standing next to a row of what could have been outfits and could have just been bits of leather joined together with spikes, Lance was worried.

When Keith voluntarily accepted a hug from her, Lance rapidly swapped worry for intrigue. She must have been an angel for Keith to be so close to her. And then he saw who was standing near the makeup station a little ways away from the clothes- Plaxum, Lance’s favorite nail tech and beautician.

“Hiii~!” She called, gesturing Lance into the seat. “Fancy meeting you here, stranger.”

“Hey,” Lance replied. “I’m amazed Allura was able to call you in so fast.”

Plaxum shook her head, “I’m on call for this job for the next three weeks, hon. I’m here whenever you need me.”

“What?” Lance whipped his head around to Keith, “Did you know about this?”

Keith nodded blithely, but before he could respond Allura ushered him out of the room.

Kimberly frowned, “Did Allura not explain anything to you?”

Lance shook his head. Kim sighed and then gracefully fell into the makeup chair beside Lance. 

“To make sure you blend in on set, we’re having you masquerade as Akira’s- Keith’s stage name- long time boyfriend. You two have been through thick and thin, and neither of you could survive without each other. You keep his emotions in check, and in turn he’s completely dedicated to you.” She gave a bright grin, like she hadn’t just told Lance he was pulling the fake relationship card with Keith for the next two weeks. “That way you’re guaranteed to be allowed on set, not just as his manager but as his emotional support.”

Lance tried to keep from letting out a miserable little moan. That was like some really bizarre, domestic version of a wet dream come true for him. He gestured at all the leather and black behind Kim, “That doesn’t explain all the goth stuff, though.”

She turned around to look at it before giving Lance a puzzled look, “Doesn’t it? You’re going to have to match his aesthetic at least a little bit.”

This time Lance didn’t bother holding in he groan. Plaxum laughed and just pushed his head back, “Hold still, Lance, and let me put these fake eyebrow piercings on.”

Meanwhile, Keith was sitting with Allura and sharing his own set of misgivings. “When you told me I’d have someone to accompany me on set, I didn’t think you meant Lance.”

Allura shrugged and took a sip of the tea that had been waiting for them, “Honestly, who else did you think it could be? I wouldn’t entrust you to a random stranger.” She offered a cookie to Keith, smiling. “Lance is going to be good for you. Trust me.”

Keith’s brows furrowed, “Good for me? Lance figured out who I was right away-”

Alura cut in soothingly, “Consider that your first acting test, and congratulations, you passed!”

She sat back, “He was taken aback, correct? Doubted who you were for a moment? If Lance, who knows you so well, was confused, imagine all the hubbub we’ll get when the general public sees how you transformed for this show.”

She looked off into the distance, “Maybe I’ll design a whole new line for it…”

Keith rolled his eyes and shoved some cookies into his pockets for later. Lance wasn’t getting to snack right now, he’d need them.

Not even a minute later, Kimberly entered the room and cleared her throat, “Allura, I think this might be some of my best work yet. I know I said we’d put him in black from head to toe, but he was my muse and I felt _inspired_.”

Plaxum, appearing from behind Kim, jumped in, “Lance looks so cute! He’s definitely the sweetie to Keith’s scary!”

Allura frowned, peering around the two to look for Lance, “Well, I’m sure he looks amazing, but where is he?”

Plaxum glanced behind her. “Oh no! He was just here, let me go look for him.”

Kimberly chuckled, “I told him he didn’t have to be embarrassed, he looks good.”

“Hold on a sec,” Keith looked up from beneath his long hair what ended up being a death glare, “Just what the fuck did you put him in that he’s too embarrassed to be seen in it?”

“It’s not embarrassing, per se,” Allura responded, “It’s more that it’s just far from his normal realm of modelling. But he’s a professional, so he won’t let something as small as this overcome him.”

She cast Keith an angelic smile, “You’ll see! Once he gets into his role he’ll forget all about it.”

Keith was very close to announcing that he wasn’t going to do anything that Lance didn’t want to do when Plaxum popped in again, “I found him!”

The Lance that stepped out was one that Keith had never seen before. Contrary to the usual femme fatale, heartthrob persona that usually graced Lance when modelling, he was curled up on himself, tugging at the hem of his oversized pink sweater like he could somehow make it cover the tiny black shorts he was wearing, only to squeak when it slipped off his shoulder and reveal the lacy strap of a black bralette. 

Keith stared- he thought his jaw might have dropped he stared so hard. If it had been just the sweater short combo, he might have been able to keep it together, but Lance was also pierced. They must have been fake, but even so, a lip ring and eyebrow studs, two piercings in each ear, plus an industrial and an ear cuff had Keith feeling things. Combine that with the spiked collar and the ripped fishnets with studded combat boots and Keith realized he was staring at the same gothic lolita fashion he’d worn for the Moe Lolita Dreamland shoot, only this time Lance was the one wearing it and Keith knew that this is what these clothes were supposed to look like. Absolutely adorable.

Keith’s hands twitched at his sides with the urge to reach out and touch.

“Give us a spin, Lance,” Allura cooed.

He did so, revealing a studded belt and pink hearts on the back pockets of his shorts.

Keith almost managed to muffle the entirety of his groan. Almost. Kimberly’s chuckle from beside him made him think that some of it got out.

“Perfect! Exactly what I had in mind for our touching star crossed lovers. Akira, meet Isamu.”

Keith continued to just give Allura a blank stare, never thinking he’d be this blessed. Or cursed. He wasn’t sure which one yet.

She turned around to face Lance, “All right, Isamu, it’s time for you two to get to your hotel. Just remember, leaving Akira alone would cause a host of problems for everyone involved, so do make sure to properly take care of him, okay?”

Lance nodded, eyes still wide, while Keith interjected, “Hey! I can take care of myself!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to personally thank the eighties voltron anime for giving me an entire second set of names for these characters so I didn't have to think of names. thx bb <3
> 
> Also, thank you for the absolute overload of comments on the last chapter!!! I didn't think so many people would enjoy it!! AH!! I hope you all enjoy the rest of this arc just as much, and just know that I will be replying to comments tomorrow. I know this chapter was a lot of talking, but do you feel like hearing the convo bt shiro hunk and allura cleared things up? or was it more confusing? did you like seeing kim and plaxum again? Did you know that in the original manga, it goes down as fake siblings? I wrote two chapters of this arc with them being siblings before I decided it just felt too weird and went back and rewrote it as a fake relationship. Should I tag it as fake boyfriends now? should I clarify that tag in some way if I do? (can you tell I'm pretty unsure of my writing in this arc so far? ha ha (ﾟωﾟ；) )


	29. Walls Down, Guard Up Boyfriend Panty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith set out on their own as Isamu and Akira, both struggling with having the ultimate opportunity in front of them and yet not being able to take advantage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up with a name for this chapter took longer than editing it tbh. The last few chapters have all been pretty continuous plot wise and even scene wise, and that's going to continue, so if you're having a hard time jumping into the story when it's picking up RIGHT where it left off, this is a good arc to wait out and then binge. 
> 
> Sorry for not replying to comments, I PROMISE I WILL, I read all of them and they mean so much to me and your reactions are so much of the reason why I write this.
> 
> (Also I know it's Sunday but it's my spring breeaaaaak)

Keith, wearing enough leather and spikes to clothe an entire biker gang, looked like the last person to be advocating for his ability to not cause trouble. Sitting there with Lance, Allura, Kimberly and Plaxum, Keith looked like the odd man out in some sort of fashion thriller yoga night. The fact that he was claiming to be the one capable of taking care of himself was nearly laughable.

But, instead of bursting into highly inappropriate laughter, Allura merely hummed. “Yes, because Keith Kogane has so much experiencing with show biz and Akira Kurogane has even more.”

Lance nodded, “Keith, you may complain about me forgetting to eat sometimes, but if Allura doesn’t send you to your shoot with a schedule, you just sit in the break area until some poor assistant comes and finds you.”

Keith cocked his head, “Is that not what you’re supposed to do?”

“You’re right, Allura,” Lance groaned, “As far from my comfort zone as these weirdly innocent yet fetishy clothes might be, I can’t let Keith do this on his own.”

Kimberly piped up, “Lance, this isn’t kinky, it’s just pastel goth. I know you don’t normally go for the super feminine everyday wear but prepare to get real used to being breezy and swathed in softness.’

He winced. “I miss my leggings already.”

“It’s all the rage for counterculture,” Plaxum replied cheerfully. “I suppose you could say it’s the rage for people who wanna rage.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much, Lance,” Allura cut in, “I’m sure we’ll be able to find something suitable that Isamu would wear lounging around the hotel room when there’s only Akira’s loving eyes to see.”

Lance chuckled uncomfortably, “Hey Allura, why do you make it sound like Keith and I will be sharing a hotel room?”

She flicked a stack of key cards his way. “Oh, did I not make that obvious? I’m not paying for two hotel rooms, especially when you two are love birds attached at the hip.”

“Curse you,” Lance muttered, “and your ethical spending sense.” 

“Lance, I forget,” she said, “What video was it you asked me for? Was it the one-”

“Allura” Lance cut in, “I would just like to thank you for being a wonderful boss and having the forethought to realize Keith and I could just share a room, thank you.”

She hummed, “Just be glad I didn’t come for the cow.”

Keith didn’t listen to anything that came after the news that he and Lance were rooming together. 

He’d be sharing a hotel room with Lance. Alone. In a room. With Lance. For two weeks. Fuck. He didn’t- Lance would be showering. Multiple times. Changing. Changing? Lance would be changing. They’d be eating together, breakfast, lunch and dinner. Holy shit that was two weeks of dates. Three dates a day. That was- Keith wasn’t good enough at math to know exactly how many right away but he knew it was a lot of dates. He hoped Lance didn’t get sick of him. 

Oh fuck, him and Lance were occupying such a weird in between space right now where they were definitely friends and definitely flirty and Keith was crushing so hard and how was he going to handle that for two weeks without doing something weird, or something that put Lance off?

Keith didn’t realize that with all the heavy makeup still on, his thinking face looked more like a murder face, so when he looked up he was surprised to see Kimberly, Allura, Lance and Plaxum all staring at him with pale faces.

“Sometimes I impress even myself,” Plaxum remarked faintly.

“Did you guys say something?” Keith asked.

Allura cleared her throat, “Yes, I just asked if the hotel accomodations were all right with you.”

He grunted, voice strangled, “They’re fine.”

Lance eeped. “He’s definitely mad, Allura.”

“Well,” she said, heading for the exit, “Here’s hoping you can calm him down.”

Lance looked back at Keith, who looked like a harbinger of death in the middle of the room.

“Kaltnecker better have the best goddamn stall any cow has ever had,” he muttered.

~~~

When Lance saw the hotel room, he couldn’t help but drop his very expensive duffle bag on the floor like it was some cheap canvas luggage piece. 

Allura was shameless, but she wasn’t this shameless.

One room? Lance could see that. 

One bed? Lance could not, in any way, see that.

This was too much, even for her.

“There’s only one bed,” Keith muttered.

“Yes, thank you, Akira, I can see that.” Lance growled.

“No need to get snippy, Isamu,” Keith replied.

“I should never have just blindly trusted Allura.”

“It’s all right, Isamu,” Keith replied, struggling to act like what his idea of one half of a lovey dovey couple would be “I can sleep on the floor.”

“No,” Lance sighed, going to rub at his face before remembering his makeup, “If anyone’s sleeping on the floor, it should be me. I’m the reason we’re in this mess-”

“It’s not your fault, Isamu. It’s Allura’s.” He looked at the king sized bed with a calculating eye. “We’ll both fit no problem, it’ll be fine.” He looked at Lance, trying another line he felt fit the situation, “I’ll even let you use my arm as a pillow.”

Lance nearly imploded right then and there. He got that Keith was trying to be in character or whatever, but at the same time that was such a coupley line! And with those eyes! And so early! Did Keith really not think anything of treating Lance like a lover? Lance was sure he wasn’t going to survive these two weeks. How the fuck was he supposed to survive two weeks of practically spooning Keith and getting all this treatment he’d secretly been hoping for all his life? This was so not what he’d signed up for.

Keith, watching Lance’s internal struggle and misinterpreting it as unsurety of how to act in character, couldn’t help but tease him, “Or can you not even do that much for the sake of your act, Lance?”

The model’s head whipped up, jewelry clanging as he locked eyes with the absolute prick of a human being, “Okay, that’s it, Keith- you look absolutely terrifying in those clothes but if you’re gonna cop an attitude with me I don’t care if you look like Satan himself I can still kick your ass-”

Lance’s very out of character tirade was cut short by a knock from the door.

After a few moment of unspoken communication via intense eye contact, Lance moved to open it, only to find a very apologetic hotel manager on the other side.

It turned out that Allura was not, in fact, that shameless. Rather, the hotel had confused their key cards and put them in the wrong room. 

With both of them sporting looks strong enough to intimidate entire death head mosh pits, one measly hotel manager was no match.

Keith thought that maybe playing Akira would be easier than he thought, if all he had to do was tap into his grumpier side. Allura had explained to the two of them that she wanted them to be completely wrapped up in each other. Akira would remain a mysterious presence on set because he didn’t talk to the rest of the cast, he only spent his down time with his boyfriend, Isamu. Isamu would be the one talking to the producers and set crew about shooting times and locations. The only people on set Akira would be taking direction from were the directors. Allura had told them that Keith shouldn’t hesitate to go to Lance for any kind of support he needed, whether it be emotional or physical. Keith didn’t think he’d need any emotional support, he was absolutely fine and he didn’t know what Allura was talking about, but he didn’t feel like putting up a fight about it.

Just like he didn’t feel like putting up a fight over the change in hotel rooms, though the manager with his repentant attitude was so over the top that Keith almost wanted to tell him to drop the luggage and get lost, they could handle finding their new room themselves. 

Unfortunately, Lance didn’t seem to see it that way, chatting with the manager and assuring him it was fine. While he took his time chatting away with the hotel manager, Keith took a moment to wonder why Lance had been at such a loss earlier when Keith tried to act coupley with him.

Keith’s own wording led him to a conclusion. Lance had been flustered by Akira’s- or Keith’s- flirty line. Or was Lance doing that as Isamu? His head hurt, this whole pretending-to-be-a-couple thing made being with Lance so much harder than Keith thought it would be. Anything that happened would leave Keith second guessing where he stood with Lance and eternally wondering if Lance enjoyed everything that was happening as much as Keith was.

He looked up at the sound of the door closing, seeing Lance coming towards him with his arms full of complimentary hotel goods. Apparently, too full, as Lance barely got four steps forward before the packets of tea and coupons for nearby restaurants began tumbling out of his arms. Lance groaned and bent down to gather them up.

Lance, being totally focused on the mess, didn’t give one thought to grace. He thought bemusedly to himself as he began picking it up that the hotel manager really didn’t have to give him so many complimentary items. He huffed a laugh, thinking the poor man was probably scared of Isamu’s big bad boyfriend.

Said boyfriend was currently neither big nor bad, but rather overwhelmed once again. Lance being so off guard at the moment left Keith to stare wide eyed at the flash of pink nipple that the gaping neckline of Lance’s sweater gave to Keith every time the other boy bent down. Keith averted his eyes to the floor only to see Lance’s shorts cutting into the meat of his thighs and outlining the bulge in his shorts.

He made to stand up, thinking he would just check his phone and bear it, but then he remembered that he should be acting as Akira right now. Akira, an overprotective, lovey dovey boyfriend. Keith paused. How would a really attached boyfriend act seeing his boyfriend unintentionally exposing himself? 

After a moment’s thought, Keith did indeed stand up, grabbing Lance by the wrist and making everything fall again.

Lance eeped and exclaimed, “Akira?!” but Keith just kept walking, taking him down the elevator, out of the lobby, and straight into the thriving nightlife towards some boutiques he’d seen on the way in.

Lance had no idea what was happening, but if he had to guess he’d say Keith was doing something he thought was in character. Lance caught a glimpse of them in shop windows as they passed. Keith looked breathtaking, dark gaze focused unerringly in front of them and his dark coat whipping around him. Lance could see the lithe feline grace in Keith’s walk and he could tell that he was pulling the same effortlessly dangerous feel he had for the music video.

In contrast, Lance’s limbs were flailing like a baby duck as he struggled to keep up with Keith. He scolded himself, reminding him that he was a model for god’s sake,and had been a model for way longer than Keith. Consciously tucking his limbs in and holding his chin up, he yanked his forearm out of Keith’s grip.

The other model turned to look at him, surprise written all over “Akira’s” face. Lance couldn’t help the slight blush that rose to his cheeks as sheepishness filled him. Keith stopped, an expectant look on his face as he waited for Lance to give an explanation. 

“My feet hurt,” he murmured, his hand going up to twine with Keith’s in a much more gentle version of Akira’s grip from earlier, “Just walk normally. You don’t have to rush.”

Keith looked down at Lance’s hand in his like he didn’t know what to do with it, “I didn’t want the stores to close.”

Lance frowned, “What stores?”

Keith looked out at the boutiques surrounding them, “You’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe I originally thought this fic would be like ten chapters? And then I said thirty, but here we are and now I'm like forty? Sixty? I don't know. I'm long winded as fuck.
> 
> I'm doing Camp Nanowrimo so I write a little bit every day, wish me luck <3


	30. Gone Batty Panties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance spend some time figuring out who Akira and Isamu are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sister hasn't read this chapter yet, she's going to die when she reads it. And so are you. 
> 
> Fun fact, this arc was originally planned to start in chapter seventeen. Wow, I am long winded.

Lance spent the rest of the walk paying almost no attention to where they were headed. His focus was only on the warmth of Keith’s hand in his. When Keith finally did stop, Lance found himself in front of a stylish store that had the same tag that had been on a lot of his clothes. The mannequins in the storefront looked like a biker gang and a rave had taken over Paris Fashion Week.

Showing no hesitation, Keith led Lance in and then turned to give him such a steady look that Lance felt like he was being appraised.

“Pick out what you like,” Keith told him.

Lance opened his mouth to tell Keith that he didn’t need to go on some kind of all-expenses-paid-for shopping spree, thank you very much, but before he did he caught himself.

The steady look on Keith’s face meant he was definitely acting as Akira right now. Which meant that Akira was taking his boyfriend out shopping. Which was a very different thing from Keith trying to Lance what to wear. It meant Lance should react like he felt Isamu would.

So after a moment of thought, Lance leaned in close to Keith, close enough that he was able to look up at him through his eyelashes, “Are you sure?” He purred, “I might buy the whole store.”

While on the inside, seeing Lance do that made Keith want to scream and cry and take pictures of it so he could remember it forever, on the outside he managed to keep it to a subtle smirk before turning away to hide the way it broke into a full smile.

Lance, watching Keith wander away into the maze of clothing racks, smirked to himself, thinking that Akira was the doting type of boyfriend after all. Akira, indifferent to everyone else, spoiled Isamu absolutely rotten and so Isamu clung to him more and more. Lance continued to think as he began absentmindedly strolling through the racks. Akira probably thought Isamu’s behavior was endearing, which would make him want to spoil Isamu more and more, which would make Isamu cling more and more.

The whole thing was kinda cute, in a weird, twisted kind of way. But then again, Allura had told them Keith’s character on the show was dark and twisted, so he supposed it only made sense. 

Lance began flipping through a rack of leather tops, thinking about how his reaction could have been more in character for Isamu- should he have pouted? Thrown a fit? Sulked? Lance realized with impish glee that there was no motivation for Isamu to act cool and aloof with Akira. He could instead act however he wanted in order to get Akira’s attention, even very childishly if he wanted to. That was a rare happening, considering Lance’s life in the spotlight, and he resolved then and there to start being more open with his feelings- or rather, Isamu’s feelings. If Lance were open about Lance’s feelings there wouldn’t be much sulking, only kissing. And he didn’t know how Keith would respond to that.

Wondering about that led Lance to wondering how Akira would react to Isamu. Or, even better, how Keith would react to Lance’s acting abilities. Lance wondered if Keith would be proud of him, before catching the thought and burying his face in a rack to hide the sudden blush on his cheeks, ignoring the warm feeling in his chest that came from the thought of Keith praising him.

Lance looked up from the rack and rapidly walked towards the other end of the store as if he could somehow outpace his gay thoughts. Deciding to put his newfound revelation about Isamu to the test, he found Keith. 

“Did you decide on something you like?” Keith muttered.

“Yep!” Lance hummed, “It’s a little expensive though.” 

“That’s fine,” he replied. He looked at Lance’s empty hands, “What is it?”

“It’s over here,” Lance took Keith’s hand, struggling to be casual because Isamu would obviously take Akira’s hand all the time like it was totally second nature and not at all surprisingly smooth and warm- Lance shook his head again, facial jewelry jangling. He was trying not to think about that right now. 

He took Keith towards the most expensive, outrageous thing in the store. It was a full body costume of sumptuous robes and head to toe embroidery with leathery bat wings. It came complete with a headdress holding two devil horns. Lance had taken one look at the subtle price tag that listed a modest $7,000 and known that this was what he wanted Akira to get.

Keith, still fully in character, looked at Isamu, staring up at him with hope sparkling in his eyes, and then over to the totally super awesome rad costume. He hadn’t seen it in his casual glance around the store, but now he was kind of wishing he had because that thing was metal as fuck. Isamu had good taste.

He caught the eye of a store clerk hovering near them nervously.

“This thing looks totally sick, we’ll take it.” 

The clerk nodded and hustled off, probably to get whatever they needed to package up the damn thing and take it home. Keith felt a hand grab his arm, he looked over expecting to see the smiling face of his “boyfriend”, but instead there was such a Lance-like look of shock and worry on his face that Keith nearly forgot they were supposed to be in character, “What’s wrong L- Isamu?”

“I-” Lance wasn’t sure what he could say. He’d wanted to push Akira a little, buy he hadn’t expected that he’d get his way no questions asked. They couldn’t actually take home the stupid thing. The bat wings probably wouldn’t even fit through the door of their hotel room. But saying any of that wouldn’t be in character for Isamu. Lance wracked his brain for a moment. “It’s very expensive,” He finally settled on saying.

Keith struggled to keep his face indifferent and not show the confusion he felt from Isamu’s sudden change of heart. Was Lance trying to see whether or not Akira would really spoil his boyfriend? If this was a challenge, Keith was not going to back down. They were getting this costume, whether Isamu wanted it or not.

“I have lots of money,” He replied, gesturing to the clerk to begin boxing it up.

The clerk stepped forward but Lance held out his hand, gesturing for the clerk to wait, so they stepped away from the costume again. 

“It’s very… outlandish,” Lance said.

“Don’t worry,” Keith replied with no hesitation, “You look good in anything.”

Lance took a very deep breath to prevent himself from squealing like a schoolgirl and then calmly turned away from Keith, crossing his arms and looking out over the rest of the store, pouting, “It’s ugly and gross and I don’t like it.”

“Isamu, if you’re not going to be serious about picking out your clothes, I’ll pick them out for you.” And with that all or nothing statement declared way too casually, Keith turned around to a rack of pants behind them and threw a pair of low rise black leather bootcuts at his boyfriend. 

“Try those on.”

Lance opened his mouth to argue because he felt like Isamu would, but Keith glared at him, letting him know that he was done with the games, and so Lance meekly went to the dressing room and tried them on, finding that they fit him like a soft, pliable second skin. He got that annoyingly warm feeling in his chest again when he wondered if Keith had chosen these for him because he knew they were easier to move around in than the skin tight leather shorts. 

He came out wearing them to tell Keith he liked them and that they could get a pair, only to find him standing outside surrounded by four of the boutique’s bags.

“What are all these, Akira?” Lance asked, fully prepared to have to tell him that they were not, absolutely not, buying the $7,000 one of a kind costume Lance had jokingly asked for before.

“I thought you might like the pants, so I went ahead and bought a few pairs.” Akira explained tonelessly.

“How many is a lot?” Lance’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“... Ten.”

“Kei- Akira! That’s too many!” He shook his head. “You’ve got to return them. Buy yourself something with that money.”

“But I like spending my money on you more.”

He looked at Lance from underneath his bangs, turning big puppy dog eyes on him that should not have worked considering the amount of eyeliner, but they did. Lance could already feel his will weakening. “You wouldn’t take my only joy away from me, would you Isamu?”

Lance hissed a curse under his breath, “Not fair Akira!”

Keith only tilted his head a little farther, eyes shining in the lights.

Lance was able to remain strong for only ten seconds more before he groaned, “Fine, Akira, you can buy me these things, but ten is way too many! Return all but two.”

Keith frowned, looking at all the bags around him like Lance had stomped all over them in a fit of peak. “All but three,” he said.

Lance, unprepared to haggle with his fake boyfriend about how many pairs of leather pants were too many pairs of leather pants, rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on. “Fine, three pairs. Now go return them and pick out other things!”

Keith all but trotted off back to the store. Lance thought that if there was such a thing as an adorable zombie doberman, that would be Keith’s Akira right now. It was interesting, seeing the petulant side of Akira that had come out tonight. He could see that to Keith, Akira was someone who would go all out and wouldn’t hold back, but who also didn’t plan ahead. He snickered to himself, thinking that wasn’t too far from Keith in real life.

Lance begrudgingly thought to himself that he wanted to see more of Keith’s puppy dog eyes, and then blushed and buried his head in his hands thinking about just how _cute_ Keith could be. 

Lance felt like they were rapidly losing themselves in their roles, and he could understand why Allura had wanted someone with Keith. Feeling like this made the boundaries between what you were really feeling and what your character was feeling hazy at best. 

Lance felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and turned around, thinking Keith was back.

Keith was not back, and his hand was definitely not the one on Lance’s shoulder. It was some sleazy guy who looked like he belonged by the dumpster at a third rate metal concert, with dirty clothes that were a cheap attempt at the looks Lance and Keith were serving, and a mohawk that Lance was reasonably sure TSA would count as a weapon. He was surrounded by three backup hooligans, and Lance thought, in a moment of panicked wit, that they looked like a third rate cover band for some actual metal head legend. 

He looked back and forth between the hand on his shoulder and the man grinning down at him. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” Mohawk guy began. Lance rolled his eyes in an effort to show that he was not amused, secretly hoping someone intervened soon because while Lance was used to turning away cat calls, he didn’t usually attract men that looked so dangerous, and he certainly couldn’t do anything about four of them at once. “We’re heading to a bar,” the sleaze fest continued, “and were wondering if a cute thing like you would want to join us.”

Lance looked out over the square, and then down at the ground. He stayed quiet for long enough that one of the guys made to step forward and shake him, but then Lance looked up, a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his mouth.

“Sure, but if you want to take me out, you’ve got to get permission first,” and then he cocked his head back, looking past the guys and straight into the eyes of Keith, who, backlit by the bright city lights and wearing his hooded leather coat, looked like a dark avenging angel come to wreak havoc and pass judgement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Camp nanowrimo is a god send bc im like on chapter 33 which means I have enough chapters to update through finals. HALLELUJAH 
> 
> Everybody liking what's happening so far? Questions, comments? Tell me what you thought!


	31. Suited Up Leather and Lace Bodysuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith doesn't want to get in a street fight before filming has even started, but there's nothing Akira won't do to make sure Isamu stays safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: TEN THOUSAND HITS??? OH MY GOD YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING THIS IS RIDICULOUS, I SAW THE HITS RIGHT AFTER I POSTED THIS AND STOP IT. STOP IT, YOU GUYS ARE TOO GOOD TO ME. SHOULDN'T YOU ALL BE REREADING DIRTY LAUNDRY OR SOMETHING??
> 
> Sorry for the late update you guys. Finals this year were some of the most draining two weeks of my life. Thankfully, I'm done now, and have a month to spend taking time for fun things. I know this chappie is a lil short, but it was just such a good scene that I didn't want to wreck the vibe with hat comes after. Stay tuned next update to see more on that :D
> 
> I'd also like to say that while I've acknowledged this is a skip beat au, these few chapters in particular are nearly plot point for plot point the same as Nakamura-sensei's, and I think even a couple sentiments expressed in the dialogue are similar. I just want to say that I claim no credit for Nakamura-sensei's genius, and it is in no way my intention to do so.

Lance looked up at the man with a hand on his shoulder and smirked, “If you want to take me out, you’ve got to get permission first,” His gaze landed on Keith standing off to the side like a harbinger of doom, “From him.”

“Hey babe,” Lance continued, head lolling and a lazy smile on his lips, “These guys say they want to play with me… What do you think?”

The cold pit that had been sitting in Keith’s stomach since he’d seen Lance surrounded by these men immediately lessened in response to Lance’s use of a pet name for him in a way that was much too soft and sweet for the current circumstances. While Keith had never, before this moment, known that he wanted to be called babe, suddenly he wanted Lance to call him nothing else. It was the same kind of dark want that came from Akira, the kind of craving he would fight to fulfill.

The chief hooligan with the most ridiculous hair turned around to face Keith. His sense of danger must have been skewed, because while other people were moving to the other side of the square in order to avoid Keith, the guy just sauntered over to him with a grin on his face, “Hey man, that’s your little boy toy, right? Plenty of men loan us their playthings for the night. Do what’s best for yourself right now, dude, don’t complicate things by acting heroic or getting pissy. Let us take your chick for the night. He looks like he’d be a good time.”

Lance pulled a face at that line, because he hadn’t heard such stereotypical intimidation tactics since his last rewatch of The Godfather.

Meanwhile, Keith wondered what he should do. If he fought them, he’d be putting Lance in danger, and that was the absolute last thing he wanted. He wouldn’t fight until he had to, not when there was a chance that Lance could be hurt. And also because… fighting didn’t usually go well for Keith. He should just focus on Lance, and getting him to safety. If he had to rough these guys up, he would, but he hoped it didn’t come to that.

Hoping he could keep it from coming to blows, Keith walked right past the dude who had so incompetently tried to threaten him, flicking one finger at Lance and saying in a bored voice, “Isamu, let’s go.”

“Okaaayy.” There was no surprise in Lance’s expression, because he had total faith in Keith- or was it total faith in Akira?- that they’d get out of this situation no problem. He simply trotted up to Keith’s side, a disinterested look on his face to hide his internal relief.

“Ha,” One of the backup thugs laughed, “Dude, he totally just straight up ignored you.”

“Oh man, what are you going to do?” Another one jumped in.

The leader looked off to the side and spit at the ground where Keith had just been. “Man, and I was trying to handle things peacefully, too.”

“Uh oh,” the first backup goon laughed, “Are things going to get violent?”

Keith was listening to them very intently, handing the bags off to Lance and ushering him out into the center of the square, waiting to hear a reply. When the guy went quiet instead, Keith was expecting the punch that came his way. He whirled around so he could see it and dodge. 

As he continued to duck and swerve out of the guy’s range, leading him away from Lance, Keith thought distantly that this was the first time he’d fought in an honest-to-god street brawl since Shiro had brought him to L.A. The last time he’d fought had been- but Keith’s train of thought was cut off by the guy landing a punch.

He leaned over, more from shock than anything else, the back of his motorcycle glove serving to wipe the blood from his split lip. He looked at the dark, glossy stain for a moment, then up at the punk who’d hit him.

“And that,” Keith hissed, voice low and gravelly in a way Lance had never heard it before, “Is why you shouldn’t be distracted during fights.”

Standing off to the side, Lance despairingly thought to himself that rather than worrying about being distracted, Keith should worry about their reputation. If he hit the guy and it made the news, people would figure out that Keith was Akira and then the TV show, Voltron, and even Keith’s modeling career could be toast.

He should never have said that antagonistic line to those guys, if he hadn’t gotten caught up in his role or if he’d just run away instead of egging the men on, Keith wouldn’t be fighting for his life right then.

A loud smack from the fight in front of him drew Lance’s attention. He saw one of the backup goons on the periphery of the fight edging in towards Keith. It was obvious Keith didn’t see him, too focused on dodging the blows coming from in front of him. When the guy got behind Keith and went in for a punch, Lance couldn’t let himself stand off to the side any longer. It was his fault they’d gotten into this mess, and he couldn’t leave Keith to handle it by himself.

He rushed up, grabbing at the guy, “Hey! Stop it! You’re worse than the Galra, teaming up three against one like this! Even worse than fucking Lotor!” 

The guy didn’t spare a look at Lance, simply giving him a full body shove that knocked Lance to the ground. Lance heard his sweater rip as he hit the pavement, and he couldn’t muffle his yelp as his hands scraped the rough concrete.  
Lance’s fear stricken voice made Keith whirl around, eyes wide with worry. He saw Lance collapsed on the pavement, one of the hulking brutes standing over him without a hint of regret. This is exactly what Keith had been afraid of. Lance was hurt and it was his fault. He hadn’t gotten them out of there quickly enough, hadn’t been able to handle these thugs on his own. Lance had still had to come to his help.

Keith wasn’t on the defensive anymore. These men had hurt Lance, an innocent bystander, and Keith had been unable to stop. His frustration with himself boiled over, eyes smoldering with anger and every muscle in his body tensed to spring at these assholes who’d come out of nowhere.

He stepped towards the hooligan who’d been hoping for a sneak attack, glaring out at him with the full force of his fear for Lance and his anger at himself.

Unbidden, Lance felt himself shrink back when he saw the look on Keith’s face. There was the same raw intimidation on Keith’s face now as there had been when Lance had first encountered Keith in front of that hotel and been so scared. 

He remembered what Keith had explained to him, hiding in that alleyway near the hotel.

“I’ll be playing a teen gang member in this TV show called Marmora’s Blade. The whole show is a gritty, action-filled retelling of gang violence in the Southwestern United States- about drug running and immigrants and all sorts of shit. They asked Allura if I’d like to play a character and they came up with this idea to keep my identity a secret and let me be the character on and off set, okay?”

Lance nodded. The whole idea was pretty cool, if convoluted, like most media marketing campaigns were. “Why’d they choose you?”

Keith shrugged, “Apparently they were looking for hip, current, up-and-coming celebrities for most of their smaller roles, and Voltron has been one of the biggest buzzwords in the fashion world this season. Combine that with the fact that they like my music video and Allura told me I was a shoo-in for the part.”

Lance hissed. That damn music video again. The thing was a curse as much as it was a blessing. It had been Keith at his most beautiful, but also at his most vulnerable. And now, apparently, this TV gig wanted to draw all that out again with some teen who needed to be heartless to make it in his world, but who just wanted to be loved.

Lance thought now, sprawled out on the pavement, that maybe that was what made Keith’s stare so powerful. His normally hidden desire to be impervious to the affection of others was now an open, gaping wound, with a glare harsh enough to turn people away. Lance knew what was in that stare. It was self-defense. It was hurt or be hurt.

“Get out of there, idiots!” Lance yelled, knowing that Keith as he was now was not going to pull his punches but instead take those guys out as quickly as possible.

Because the foolhardy leader had no self preservation instincts to begin with, he didn’t try to get out of there. So Lance tried again, appealing to Keith this time, “Akira! Don’t hurt him!”

Keith’s eyes blew wide, remembering Shiro shout those exact same words when he found Keith standing bloody knuckled and without his backpack in the dim glow from a streetlight behind a McDonald’s. Instead of his punch landing on flesh, it hit the wall behind the street thug at the last second, Keith leaning against it and breathing heavily.

The man whimpered, realizing at last how close he’d come to a broken nose.

Lance stepped forward, tugging his ripped sweater up in a futile bid to hide his chest. He moved in next to Keith, laying a tentative hand on his upper arm. Keith’s face was white, eyes haunted. 

He hesitated for a moment, not knowing how to proceed. When Allura told him he’d have to take care of Keith, he’d thought he’d have to feed him, not… whatever this was. Lance didn’t even know if what had just happened had ben Keith acting as Akira or not. He didn’t even know Keith could fight like that. 

While they stood immobile, the guy ducked away, running with his goons. Lance and Keith stayed frozen where they were, the only noise the harsh grating of Keith’s breathing.

Lance struggled for something to say, but while he tried to think of something Keith tilted his head minutely, shifting towards Lance. His eyes, wide and startled and fearful, looked out at him.

“Lance?” He asked in a voice much too small to be coming from such an intimidating body.

“Yep. Hey, Keith. It’s me. I’m right here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys wanna connect with me on something a lil more private than ao3, I now have an instagram account at this same handle, velvetcoatedwonder- it's all my cosplay stuff, but I'll probly end up posting about the fic too bc I am famous for my word vomit about this fic to anyone who shows interest. It's also a way for me to FINALLY let people who wanna share fan art with me do so.
> 
> As always, if you liked this chapter please let me know! Comments make my day. (I'm sure my ppl on instagram are sick of seeing thirst comments for goth Keith, BUT I'M NOT SO KEEP EM COMING)  
> Do you like the fake dating? Are you excited to see them on set? Will they come out of this real dating or more firmly in denial than ever?


	32. Whipped Up and Whipped Out Creme Teddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith snorted, “Good luck.”
> 
> “I’m a fashion icon,” Lance sniffed primly, “I don’t need your luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Missing that update has me and my schedulle all kinds of shook. I thought I was updating this Saturday til a very kind commenter (Sunshine_untitled) asked where the chapter was. Thank you for helping me stay on top of things!  
> This whole arc that's currently happening was supposed to start in chapter seventeen. Can you believe that? Oh how young and naive I was. Clearly, posting schedules are not the only thing I've let get away from me. My word count and plot outline have absconded with our characters to somewhere past 100k. (JFC 100K AND THEY HAVENT FUCKED HOW DO YOU TAG A GLACIAL SLOW BURN)

Keith had rescued their bags and begun herding Lance back to the hotel, but Lance could see a haunted look in Keith’s eyes that worried him. It was worrying enough that he stopped Keith after only a few minutes of walking and took Keith’s face in his hands, something he’d never do as Lance but that felt natural as Isamu, and knocked their foreheads together.

“What happened back there?” He didn’t have to be any more specific; he could feel the tightening of Keith’s body and knew the other boy knew exactly what he was talking about.

“I just got caught up in the moment, that’s all,” Keith replied, failing to meet Lance’s eyes.

“As Akira?” Lance’s voice grew smaller and softer, “Or as Keith?”

“I’m fine,” Keith shrugged out of Lance’s hands, moving on ahead.

“Really?” Lance asked, not wanting to corner Keith but also not wanting to drop the issue.

Keith didn’t reply. He stopped, turned around, and studied Lance for a moment before holding out his hand. With no hesitation, Lance put his hand in Keith’s. 

“Thanks,” Keith said gruffly. Lance knew he wasn’t thanking him for the hand holding, and didn’t even try to stop the smile that broke over his face.

“Of course, it’s my job as your boyfriend to watch over you,” he joked.

Keith didn’t reply, again, which Lance was coming to realize was customary for Akira. They walked on, both wondering if this was the sort of watching over that Shiro and Allura had in mind for them.

Keith didn’t relax until he had Lance safe and sound back in their room. Even then, it wasn’t so much that he relaxed as he managed to push the sense of panic over what had happened to the back of his mind.

By some minor miracle all of Lance’s bags had been fine, and he was now sorting through the things Keith had bought when he’d exchanged the seven pairs of pants in hopes that he could find a shirt to replace his ripped sweater.

“Keith, how did you afford all of these?” Lance asked, voice thin with disbelief. He’d emptied four bags and was surrounded by tops and bottoms. “There's no way seven pairs of pants turned into-" he paused, trying to do a quick mental tally to figure out just how much Keith had bought, but ended up just saying, "All this."

Keith elected not to reply, simply giving him a small shrug and continuing to play on his phone. Lance shook his head, figuring any answer he’d get would just be doting nonsense, and continued folding a pile of slinky black shirts. “How did you even have time to buy all of these?”

Keith again elected not to answer, and Lance’s supposition for his silence was exactly right. Keith didn’t feel the need to explain why because his answer would be rather embarrassing. He may have re-entered into the store and let his fantasies run away with him. 

It was just that on his way to the pants section he saw some jackets that he thought Lance would like, and then some camisoles, and then the sales clerk pointed out their new tops, and Keith may have used a full week’s worth of their food allowance from Allura but it had been really fun buying clothes for Lance and he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. 

He wasn’t normally one for fashion, knowing generally when something looked good or bad but being a little out of touch when it came to trends. He also apparently had some tastes that ran opposite the mainstream. He thought khaki corduroys looked great but when he’d approved that particular idea of Coran’s, Lance had gotten so worked up he’d almost cried.

“I think you bought more clothes than I could physically wear in two weeks, Keith.” The boy glanced over to the bed to see Lance skeptically eyeing what had turned into a small mountain of black fabric.

Rather than admit he’d done anything less than a perfect job, Keith responded, “I thought you were good at fashion, can you not figure out a way to wear all of them?”

Lance’s head whipped up and the two locked eyes. Keith hummed and then continued, “I guess maybe that would be a bit too much for you after all.”

“Oh, I know about fashion,” Lance said, getting up on his knees and starting to root through the mounds of clothing covering his bed, “I know more about it than you do anyway. I know that you bought a shit ton of stuff that will match with absolutely nothing else you bought, but that I’m going to wear it anyway because I can make anything look good.”

Keith snorted, “Good luck.”

“I’m a fashion icon,” Lance sniffed primly, “I don’t need your luck.”

Keith just raised his eyebrows at Lance, asking if he was serious, but when Lance refused to acknowledge him he huffed, “I’m taking a shower,” and moved into the bathroom.

Lance, earnestly wondering how the fuck he was going to make fourteen cohesive outfits from all the odds and ends Keith had bought, suddenly had a startling realization. Even though they hadn’t necessarily been in character, Keith had still wrapped Lance around his little finger and done just what he wanted with him. Keith had dodged all Lance’s questions and appealed to Lance’s pride in an effort to get him to wear the clothes. Lance wanted to be angry, but instead he was just impressed. He should have just taken the pants- even if it was just ten identical pairs.

He fell back into the soft mound of clothing on his bed, mind still on Keith, where it seemed to be twenty four-seven these days. 

~~~

Keith had used conditioner instead of shampoo not once but twice, but in his defense he was less than focused on getting clean. The scene in the square kept playing through his head, each time more muddled up with other fights he’d been in, other times people he’d loved had been in danger. He felt clammy, a churning in his stomach that stemmed from the feeling that he might not be as up to this job as he thought. Keith needed to get his feelings under control, he couldn’t go back out to Lance feeling like this.

The model in question had thrown out his now ruined sweater, had tried on all his new clothes to find that they fit annoyingly well, and thrown them in the wash minus their tags. He looked up to consider whether he should start dinner only to come to the startling realization that Keith had been in the shower for forty minutes now.

Now Lance knew some people could take long showers, especially people in the beauty business, but forty minutes was a _really_ long time, for anybody. He perused the room service menu and considered the tiny kitchenette, too distracted by Keith’s prolonged absence to come to a conclusion about dinner. Keith could be pretty absent-minded sometimes, and Lance was coming to realize that went double for Akira. Lance began worrying that maybe he’d fallen asleep in the shower, maybe he’d tripped, maybe he was wounded and was too proud to ask for help. 

Mind filled with increasingly awful possibilities, Lance raced to the bathroom and burst in without even knocking. Without a moment of hesitation, he ripped back the shower curtain and then found himself face to face with Keith’s wet, naked body. 

Keith whipped around when the curtain was suddenly opened, a very womanly screech leaving his body before he got himself under control. Thirty seconds of mutually stunned silence went by, Keith having absolutely no clue what was going on. Wanting to alleviate the worried look on Lance’s face, he cocked his head and said, “What, you wanna get in?”

There was the cutest stunned look on Lance’s face, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. It made Keith want to pull him under the spray and kiss him senseless. 

Unfortunately, Lance’s reaction quickly morphed into a look of annoyance and he said, “No, you pervert. I was just wondering if we were out of Cheetos.”

Keith frowned, “Lance this is our first day here. Why would we have Cheetos?”

Lance nodded and said, “Right, right, but if we go grocery shopping, would you like some?”

Keith shrugged, causing a cascade of water down his pecs and toned abdomen. “Sure? I guess?”

Lance smiled, “Great!”

And with that he ducked out and slammed the door, leaving Keith to his steamy reflections. Literally steamy, not so much figuratively steamy. Keith hadn’t thought Lance’s first time joining him in the shower would involve something so mundane as grocery shopping.

On the other side of the bathroom door, Lance was crouching with his head in hands bemoaning the entirety of his personhood. The only good thing right now was that Keith had made him change out of the tight shorts from earlier so that Lance’s _boner_ wasn’t absolutely dying. It was the only part of Lance not dying. While he’d been less than a foot from Keith’s face- and Keith’s _dick_ \- Lance’s mind had been a mantra of _don’t glance down, don’t glance down, don’t glance down_. Keith had been so blase about the whole affair and Lance had asked such a _stupid_ question. The part of Lance not dying of embarrassment was kicking himself that he hadn’t just taken advantage of the situation and looked at Keith’s dick.

He bet it was a pretty dick. He didn’t have any evidence on which to base this assumption, but he just knew that Keith had a pornstar level dick. The rest of Keith was pretty, so it followed logically that his dick would be too. Lance fell over, curling up on the carpet and flicking at a piece of fuzz right in front of his face like it would somehow make him feel better. Keith was just _so. fucking. hot._ It wasn’t fair- and Keith wasn’t aware of his looks, which just added another layer of charm. 

Lance figured Keith probably wasn’t a dick about his looks because he didn’t have people ogling him all the time- just when he was showering, Lance thought with another wave of embarrassment. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him that had him pausing in his floor gymnastics routine on their hotel carpeting. Keith didn’t think Lance had snuck into the bathroom just to get a peak, did he? Surely Keith had seen Lance’s chivalric effort to keep his eyes on Keith’s face. Lace groaned and resumed rolling back and forth in the small hallway. He’d had a prime opportunity in front of him for spank bank material til kingdom come and he’d _ruined_ it! Hopefully Keith could appreciate that. Lance’s self-sacrificing efforts were worth it if Keith recognized his stellar conduct.

For the briefest of seconds, Lance debated going back in on the pretense of some even more bullshit excuse to give himself a chance to see the things that _mattered_. But he abandoned the idea quickly, he had to call room service- and make a grocery list apparently.

He ordered dinner for Keith via a guesstimation of what he might like, and when Keith came back from the shower and attempted to make a beeline straight for the bed Lance intervened.

“Hey, Keith, before you go to bed, I ordered soup and salad for you. I tried to pick things that were easy to eat.” He pointed an arresting finger at Keith, “I’m going to shower, when I come back I want to see an empty bowl!”

He walked off to the bathroom and Keith gave a rueful smile as he watched him go. Lance really was good at caring for people. 

Keith took a few spoonfuls of soup before sighing and scrubbing his hands over his face. He wished Lance had been at least a little more surprised when he’d opened Keith’s shower curtain. The boy’s eyes had stayed so resolutely on his face, Keith could tell he hadn’t even been _trying_ to sneak a peek. Keith wished that even if it had been acting in character Lance had looked a little more interested.

He looked despairingly at the spiral cut tomato perched decoratively atop his salad and gave it a poke, watching it fall apart and tumble down the sides of the lettuce hill. Keith knew for sure that Lance was interested. He must just have his own reasons for acting so- proper. Keith, with a bit of a pout, thought that Lance could at least blush when he saw Keith shirtless. Here he was barely able to keep it together around Lance, having nearly died from the boy’s sheer perfection at least five times over the last twenty four hours alone, and apparently Lance was able to only find Keith attractive when it suited him, acting at all other times as the perfect picture of professionalism.

Keith was okay with that, though. He was just happy they were friends, and he’d rather deal with Lance toying around with him than the sheer enmity between them when they’d first met.

Keith finished his soup, only ate the sliced carrots off the salad, and then stripped to his boxers and curled up in the bed, pulling the covers over his head so there was absolutely no chance he’d be surprised by a freshly showered Lance.

The shower had been exactly what Lance needed, twenty minutes of hot water and delicious self care. But now he was faced with a slight problem, one he wasn’t used to worrying about. Normally, he’d walk out in a fabulous pair of underwear, take a swig straight from whatever cold drink he had in the fridge, and then hopefully be comatose for the next eight hours. But, he wasn’t sure if Isamu would do that. He also wasn’t sure that he, as Lance, would be able to survive walking around in his underwear around Keith. 

Even the idea of that steady, intense gaze had Lance feeling the beginnings of arousal pooling war in his gut and Lance was 100% sure he would never live down the embarrassment of popping a boner just because of Keith’s stare.

Going out in the same clothes he’d worn beforehand was not an option, and the unflattering complimentary terry cloth robe even less so. Going out in his underwear was really the only acceptable thing to do, but that just sounded like a doomed mission from the start. Lance was not used to feeling self conscious about his body, especially about being in his skivvies- he’d started as solely a boudoir model for god’s sake. But all of his professionalism and experience wouldn’t mean a thing the moment Keith looked him up and down, Lance just knew it.

Groaning in defeat, Lance hopped back into the leather jeans, figuring he could go just shirtless.

Muttering to himself about how he should never be anything less than fashionable, and that he would have to buy some pjs while he was out tomorrow, Lance walked back out into their room, only to see Keith completely buried under the covers and all of Lance’s worries having been for naught. He rolled his eyes- if that wasn’t their relationship in a nutshell.

Lance shrugged out of his pants, worries about boners from hell irrelevant, and then realized that if he wanted to go shopping, he’d need to know what they were doing tomorrow. They were free in the morning and evening, but he knew that in the middle of the day they had a preliminary script reading, which sounded very exciting… for Keith. Lance would no doubt be sitting off to the side looking pretty and being bored for a fuckin’ long time. 

Planning out what they would do the following day, Lance slipped into bed, thinking that this whole experience would definitely be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be at Momocon this weekend, if you're going and want to hang out, just let me know!
> 
> If you were eagerly awaiting this chapter and enjoyed the update, let me know that too! My life is seven different kinds of crazy so I don't always reply to comments super promptly, but I read all of them and love every single one. And I WILL reply! (Probably while procrastinating on the next update...)


	33. T-Back Bra and Thong in Over-Exposed or Tastefully Nude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance meet the rest of the cast, and Keith knows Lance shouldn't have to be putting up with all the shit Keith's putting him through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know if this is when I'm supposed to update but I'M GOING TO GOD DAMN IT! HELLO EVERYBODY!  
> I recently got to meet two readers, danrosecosplay and I met each other LITERALLY in line for Bex Taylor-Klaus, and that_one_smolkid found me on instagram! I have an amazing audience, every single one of you is so cool, and I never thought I'd get irl friends out of this??? 
> 
> Also, Ruenesca and CloudofNothingness both (very politely!) pointed out anglicizing of Lance, and I want to apologize and give thanks for letting me know! I am very willing to admit that as a caucasian biosex female I am woefully ill-equipped to be writing cross culturally, and even across genders, but I'd still like to try, all I ask is that you give me patience and guidance as I work towards improving my knowledge. Edits will be made to the points they raised!
> 
> And lastly I'd like to say thank you for so many hits and kudos on these chapters, I don't know where you're all coming from but I hope you stay!

These early mornings would be the death of him. When his alarm went off, Lance wondered if he could fit Kaltenecker into an economy plane seat and fly the two of them back to Cuba and out of Allura’s reach so that he could sleep in past his alarm and not face dire consequences.

But no, he knew she would hunt him down and find him, and more importantly he knew that Keith needed Lance with him right now, so Lance found it within himself to get up, order breakfast, and then proceed to rouse Keith, which was an atrociously hard task. Lance wasn’t sure if Keith was just acting like he thought Akira would act or if he actually had a hard time getting up in the mornings, but either way Lance’s expectations for Keith’s level of wakefulness quickly dropped from an alert Keith to a functioning Keith to a conscious Keith. 

Lance watched his fake boyfriend mechanically scoop oatmeal into his mouth with a skeptical eye. He wasn’t sure if he was actually awake or not, but he was eating, so Lance would count it as a win.

He left Keith to his own devices when it came to getting ready, Lance worrying too much about his own wardrobe to check behind his temporary lover. In the elevator and during the walk across the car park, Lance doubted that had been the right decision to make. Keith’s hair as Akira was unkempt, yes, fashionably messy, certainly. But today he just had bed head. There were no two ways about it. His fluffy, black hair was sticking up in every direction except for where it was completely smashed flat in the back in a way that could never be mistaken for fashion.

He was glad Allura and Plaxum were waiting for them in a trailer at the car park, Allura having foreseen the need for Lance to get touched up and for Keith to get ready from basically the ground up. Lance was tempted to ask how Allura knew they needed this, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer, as it would probably be well-meaning yet condescending.

Since Lance was going to be a much quicker glam job, Plaxum ushered him into the chair first. Keith, faced with the prospect of one-on-one contact with Allura, ducked out of the trailer with a muttered excuse about calling Shiro. When he was outside, he found that he actually did really like the idea of calling his brother. He wanted to ask Shiro what he’d thought when he’d pulled Keith out of all those fights so many years ago. How did he look at Keith and not see failure? How was he not afraid of Keith? What had Shiro seen or felt that had kept him from thinking Keith was a lost cause with anger management issues and a bad attitude?

After the brawl yesterday, those were the thoughts that had risen to the forefront of his mind. He was beginning to think that he shouldn’t be wondering what their relationship was, but rather whether it was even safe for them to have a relationship. He’d fallen back into the violence of the fight so easily yesterday. There were parts of himself he’d thought he’d left in the desert, but maybe the skeletons in his closet had followed him. Before he could actually gather the courage to call Shiro, Plaxum stuck her head out the door and announced that they were ready for him. 

He nodded, saying absolutely nothing about the fact that he’d obviously not called his brother, and sat down in her makeup chair with a heavy thwump like the weight of the world- or an existential crisis- was on his shoulders.

He sat there, watching Plaxum make his dark circles darker and his grimace more menacing, contouring his jawline until he looked carved from marble. Keith had sworn to himself, when Shiro took him to L.A., that he wouldn’t continue to hurt the people in his life. He’d turn over a new leaf and leave that abandoned, hurting eleven year old in the desert where Shiro had found him. Unfortunately, Keith was realizing that child hadn’t been left behind, simply put to sleep or shoved in a storage closet, and now all those fears and worries of his younger self were coming to the forefront again. 

Keith had determined a very long time ago that he wasn’t relationship material, that he wasn’t a people person in general, that he shouldn’t let people in because eventually he’d push them out. Lance's presence in his life had made Keith forget that, had made him feel like he was only the best parts of himself. In a way, he was grateful to Allura and to those thugs. He shouldn't forget those parts of himself that made him someone unworthy of an amazing boy like Lance.

He’d been thinking about it while he watched Lance putter about getting breakfast for them that morning. Lance had looked so scared for Keith when he’d tried to pull him out of the dark thoughts in his head. As the filming for this show continued, things would only get more intense, and Lance didn’t need to be around to witness that. Keith needed to talk to Allura.

Thankfully, he had a chance when Lance left for the bathroom, leaving Keith alone with Plaxum washing her brushes off to the side and Allura critically eyeing his newly styled bed head. 

“Hey Allura,” he started, unsure of how to phrase his request.

She hummed disinterestedly, flicking a piece of lint off her pencil skirt.

“I know I said I’d take Lance for this job,” he paused, looking up at Allura and meeting her eyes, “But I don’t think I need him anymore.”

She arched one perfectly plucked brow, “Oh really? You’re not scared are you?”

Keith, for the first time in his life completely ignoring the bait, said, “Lance… Lance makes me forget about parts of myself. Parts that I should always carry with me.”

Allura had picked up one of Plaxum’s powder compacts and was inspecting her face. “That’s fine.” She looked up at Keith over the rim of the compact, “but you have to be the one to tell him.”

She patted some powder across her nose. “I think you need him. But if you don’t, just tell him that. ‘I don’t need you, I can do this on my own.’ Those exact words.” She looked up, steady gaze cutting into Keith and getting straight to the truth at the bottom of his heart. 

As much as Keith couldn’t bear to admit it, as selfish as he was for wanting Lance still near him, as much as he wished he was strong enough to do this on his own, the truth was Keith did indeed need Lance. 

~~~

The next thing on their agenda for the day was attending the script reading for the television show. It would be Akira’s first introduction to the people on set and Allura urged them not to fuck it up as many times as Plaxum urged them not to mess up their eyeliner.

When they arrived, Keith stepped out of the car and immediately put his hood up. Lance rolled his eyes at the drama king he was “dating” and then stepped out as well, grinning when he saw that Keith stood off to the side waiting for him to take the lead. Apparently Lance’s role as manager wasn’t just for looks. He’d have to make sure he did a better job than Keith had done. He bemusedly remembered the disaster that had occurred back when Allura had been too sick to field Lance’s meetings and appointments herself. He’d show Keith what being a manager really looked like. 

Unfortunately, his stint as manager got off to a rocky start when they arrived at the front desk and Lance promptly realized he had no idea who to ask for. He had to give a subtle look at Keith who grunted out “Ryler Okari.”

After receiving less than helpful instructions on where to go, Lance headed off, doing his best to find the correct meeting room. He pouted as he thought to himself that Allura should have given him more details, only being shaken from his thoughts when a firm hand on the top of his head let him know that Keith thought his pouting was adorable. 

As they approached the meeting room, Keith casually stepped in front of Lance, and when they approached the double doors Keith pushed them both open and strode through, his entrance loud enough to wake the dead. Lance was glad he was walking behind Keith because he got to see the stunned looks on everyone’s faces as his boyfriend stomped towards one of the two remaining empty chairs and threw himself into it, swinging his buckled combat boots onto the table and only acknowledging the director, giving him a curt, “Sorry we’re late,” that sounded less than sincere.

Ryler, who was in on the subterfuge currently occurring, only grinned and said, “Glad to see you could make it.”

He turned to look at Lance, as did everyone else in the room. Lance sashayed into the room with his best model walk, his hips tilting back and forth and shoes thumping dully against the carpet. When he got to the last chair between Keith and the rest of the table, he nodded at the director and said, “Apologies for Akira. He can be…” he cut his eyes over at the boy in question, who was staring out the far window disinterestedly, “A handful.”

Keith snorted and Lance continued on like he hadn’t heard it, “We’re looking forward to working with you,” he turned to address the rest of the table, “With all of you.”

The table remained silent for a couple more seconds before Ryler clapped his hands and said, “Well, now that everyone’s here, we can get down to business.”

He launched into some general explanations of who the bigwigs seated at the table were and Lance listened with only half an ear, people watching more than listening. 

Ryler looked very casual and down to earth in cargo shorts and a souvenir t-shirt for Boulder, Colorado. Lance got the impression that this whole TV show reeked of Gen-Z relevance. No wonder they’d approached Voltron for involvement.

Many of the others at the table looked to be varying shades of hipster, with some sporting tattoos or piercings in places far more obvious than might be allowed at all television network companies.

When basic introductions were out of the way, Ryler shuffled the papers sitting in front of him, and got down to business. “All right guys, so we’re reading through the second half of the first season today, the El Paso arc and the season finale. Does everyone have a copy of the script?”

There was a corresponding shuffle from the people seated around the table. Keith pulled a copy that had been folded several times over and had a dark stain on one corner out from a pocket deep within his coat. 

“For this arc, we’re using a special guest star, the talented young man off to my left, Akira.”

There was a polite mumble from most of the people, but Lance noticed one of the women further down the table didn’t say anything, fixing them with an intense stare instead. With a start, Lance realized it was Acxa, one of the Galra models who’d come to hang around Lotor. She looked as displeased to see them as Lance was to see her. 

He made a mental note to ask Allura if she’d known about this. While it didn’t exactly make him uncomfortable, he did hope that if they stayed out of Acxa’s way, she’d stay out of theirs.

“We’re very excited to be working with Akira, he’s one of the many up and coming talents we’re looking to feature in this show, and his character,” Ryler paused to wink at the table members, “Who also happens to be named Akira, is someone we hope you all fall in love with… Before we kill him off in a heart wrenching season finale.”

Lance very narrowly kept himself from visibly reacting to that information. He hadn’t known Keith’s character died. Keith was going to act out a death scene? He tilted his head towards Keith, trying to see if the other boy looked worried, but he wasn’t showing any reaction. Lance figured it was best if he also played it super cool.

The actual reading of the script was only somewhat interesting. Lance thought the plot was a little convoluted for his taste, the corrupt cops and earnest mafia members occupying too many moral grey areas for him to tell who were supposed to be the heroes and who were supposed to be the villains. What surprised him the most was Keith’s ability to bring his character to life.

While there were many aspects that were similar between Keith, Akira and his character, there was a hopelessness to many of the decisions Akira made in the show that Lance had never seen in Keith. With every drug run Akira agreed to and every odd job the Blade of Marmora made him take on, he became more upset with himself and more unable to reconcile his dreams of being a reputable U.S. citizen with his obligations to the gang who’d given him a place in the U.S. in the first place.

The other people seated at the table very quickly realized that Keith had gotten this job for good reason, and during their short breaks a couple of people had even complimented him on his reading. Keith was glad to know he was proving his place on this cast, but reading Akira’s lines out loud to a group of people instead of alone in his room made the lines he was reading that much more real.

On their second episode, Keith read an interlude between himself and his fleeting potential love interest. It was a fleeting love interest because he very quickly told her that he was in too deep and would never be able to amount to anything more than a thug and a criminal. She pursued him and he didn’t have the strength of will to push her away, but eventually she couldn’t take it anymore and left on her own.

In the scene, he told her that he was too rough for a girl like her, but directly after that scene he had dialogue with Thace, his mentor in the Blade, who told him to buck up and bury his bleeding heart. Akira admitted that he he was scared to be with her because he could never give her a proper relationship.

That was something Keith could really relate to, and he admired that decision of Akira’s, thinking that honestly it was the best decision his character could make.

Lance, sitting beside Keith and listening to the script reading, heard the dialogue and thought it was the stupidest line of reasoning he’d ever heard. He thought bemusedly to himself that kind of self-sacrificing shit sounded like something Keith would do. Lance ws of the opinion that thinking like that wasn't fair to their loved ones, because it robbed them of their choice and their ability to help. 

While Akira was more emotionally stunted than Keith, Keith had grown up with Shiro on his side, while Akira was struggling all on his own. Keith didn’t have Shiro right now, but he wished he did. He could feel the weight of Akira’s difficult decisions on him, and he wanted someone to share the load.

In their hotel room that night, Lance could tell that Keith was out of sorts. He avoided every jibe and teasing remark Lance made, and was showered and in bed by ten p.m., which was several hours earlier than the night before. 

Lance wasn’t sure what to do, but he thought this might be something he needed to give time. If he tried to pursue the issue, Keith might just move farther away from Lance, which was the last thing he wanted. They were opening up to each other, sharing things, and Lance had placed his trust in Keith. He could only hope that Keith would do the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you guys so much, and there's so much shit about to go down, and just remember that no matter what happens I love you and I love Keith and Lance and they're gonna get together. No matter what.


	34. Lace Up Corset In Setting Sun and Evening Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith finally trusts in someone else and shares with Lance what's in his head- and his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't even mention season six. It hurt so bad. It hurt my heart in every way, shape and form. The only good thing about it is that we got confirmation all my characterization (except Shiro, who I write AS HE SHOULD BE) is spot on. But that's also the sad/bad/ow part of it too. So much whump. So much.

Because the set’s schedule didn’t allow the team to film in anything close to resembling episodic, chronological order, one of the first days on set involved Keith’s death scene. The producers for the show had flown in all the supporting cast for the two-part season finale, as well as a few others who were foreshadowing characters featuring in the next season. Because of the time crunch, they were filming the finale first.

If Keith had wanted time to warm up to the idea of dying, he wasn’t getting it. His thoughts were more confused than ever, with reflections on Akira’s actions and thoughts about himself all blurring together into one headachey mess that Keith just wanted to talk out with someone. 

However, the only person readily available was Lance, and seeing as much of his personal dilemma centered around the blue-eyed boy, Keith couldn’t find it within himself to open up to him. They’d opened up to each other about a lot of things, Lance telling him about Lotor and the two sharing those kisses that had been so memorable even if they were so few.

But this, this felt different. Every time he imagined telling Lance all he could think about was Lance reacting like Akira’s love interest, turning away in disgust or, even worse, saying he’d be there for him but then later leaving when Keith needed him most. Keith liked to think Lance would be there. He wanted to believe that. But what if he was wrong?

Luckily for Keith, these were exactly the sort of thoughts swirling through Akira’s head. Unluckily for Keith, he couldn’t receive any guidance from his TV role. Akira’s inability to choose his path in life was what led him to be knifed at a drug deal gone wrong by a gang member who’d turned against them because of corrupt police buyouts.

They’d practiced what little choreography there was for the knife fight that was going to be Keith’s demise. It was a simple enough fight that they weren’t even giving him a stunt double, and apparently the fight was going to be glossed over in favor of a slow motion zoom in on the shock of Akira’s face as he fell to the ground mortally wounded.

While Keith and his costar positioned themselves on set, an abandoned side road in a sleepy, border town, Lance stood off to the side watching disinterestedly. They’d gone over what was going to happen a million and one times, Lance was pretty sure he himself could perform the twist-duck-stab-be stabbed maneuver Keith was undergoing.

His lack of interest was why he jumped in surprise when the director yelled quiet on set, and with a sharp crack of the reel Akira’s love interest was running in to ask if he was okay. Lance watched Keith’s face as he fell into Akira’s feelings, unable to look anywhere else even if he’d wanted to.

Akira pushed her away, looking not at her but instead straight at Lance with a tortured expression while he said, “Don’t touch me, I’m dirty.”

Her shoulders sagged and her face hardened, “You always do this! Can’t you see I don’t care about that?”

Keith cut his eyes over to her, and Lance shivered as soon as he was free of that intense gaze. “I said, don’t touch me,” he bit out.

She opened her mouth to reply, but that was the entrance cue for the dishonest thugs. One of them gave a suggestive glance at the girl and laugh, “What’s this Akira, you trading girls for fixes now?”

“Fuck off,” Akira said, cool and uncaring, but he turned to her and said, “You get the fuck out of here, I don’t need you messing things up for me.”

She glared, “You’re literally bleeding, Akira. Just let me help you.”

He rolled his eyes, “And I’m telling you I don’t need help.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, biting her lower lip to keep it from trembling. Lance thought he understood how she felt right now. Keith wore his heart on his sleeve sometimes, but others times it was impossible to know what he was thinking. Lance couldn’t help but think if he was in the girl’s position, he’d dig his feet in, sit down and refuse to move until Keith told him what was bothering him.

Instead of that happening, she bit out a bitter, “Fine. Do everything by yourself. I hope it makes you happy.”

She exited the set and Akira didn’t even watch her go, keeping his eyes on the men in front of him. They knew Akira was the reason their last deal had gone south; he’d been doing a lot of dirty work for the Blade of Marmora and the General didn’t like it- she wanted him gone.

Akira’s eyes went wide as he realized they weren’t there for a trade off, they were there for a hit. One of them pulled out a knife and they fell into the choreographed sequence Lance knew so well. 

A half minute scuffle and Keith was down in the dirt, one of them on top of Akira hissing his monologue that delivered the foreshadowing for the next season. The director called cut, they changed camera angles, and they ran it again, this time focusing on Keith as he fell and zoomed in tight on his face to capture every whimper and grunt as he was wrestled into the ground.

Abruptly, Keith’s mind flashed back to being shoved into the dirt not a month before his high school graduation, being left there and not even finding the strength to stand up until Shiro finally found him, disappointment in the line of his mouth and sadness in the line of his eyes. 

Above him, the thug laughed viciously. “What’s the matter, lover boy? Fight gone so soon?” He leaned in closer, jeering, “That’s the problem with you bleeding hearts these days. You want a happily ever after, a nice girl on your arm to patch you up and keep the light on. But people like you- you don’t get the good ending. You don’t get the girl, kid. Filthy drugmonkey like you?” He spat on Akira’s cheek, “You don’t _deserve_ a girl like that.”

Akira glared at him, narrowing his eyes and shouting, “I know! I know I don’t deserve her! I don’t deserve any of it! I can’t love her,” his head fell back hitting the ground with an audible thunk, “I can’t.” he whispered, the fight going out of his frame, leaving him limp on the sidewalk. 

The thug laughed cruelly, getting off him and saying to his buddy, “That boy ain’t got more than fifteen minutes left in this world. He’s bleeding out. The entire front of his shirt is soaked.”

The other guy shook his head, “He’s just a kid.”

“If he’s old enough to run errands and do dirty work, he’s old enough to take the fall.”

The other guy winced, “Still.’” He walked over to Akira, pulling out a gun. “Doesn’t mean it should be any crueller than it has to be.”

The shot was silenced and the prop gun didn’t make any noise at all, but Lance still flinched when the man pulled the trigger.

The two men walked off set and the director called cut, sending the crew scurrying around again as they regrouped and saw what was next on the scene list. 

Keith staggered to his feet and stood there in a daze, seemingly unnoticed until Lance came up to him, putting a hand on his upper arm.

“You in there?” He whispered, eyes wide.

Keith looked down at him, knowing that this was Lance checking in with Keith, not Isamu checking in with Akira, and he nodded jerkily.

Lance sighed in relief and grabbed Keith’s hand, figuring it’s what Isamu would do in the situation. He walked the two of them towards the snacks area. Keith could feel the tension in his shoulders draining and the cacophonous ringing in his head going silent at Lance’s touch. Lance was doing in an instant what Keith had struggled to do on his own for so long.

He gave him peace like Keith had never felt, and listening to Lance chatter on as they headed towards the food, Keith felt that maybe he could learn from Akira’s mistakes, not follow in his footsteps.

~~~

Lance was good at chatter. One of the best in fact. But after the entire lunch break and car ride back to the hotel, Lance was pretty chattered out. He wasn’t sure he’d been much of a distraction either, as Keith still seemed adrift in his own head.

Even back in the hotel room, the heavy silence lay over everything like a blanket. Lance took off some of his jewelry while watching Keith out of the corner of his eye, and when he saw him sit down on the bed with shoulders slumped, he turned around.

“Keith, I-” Lance hesitated, unsure of himself but wanting to continue, “I know you might not wanna- wanna talk about everything that’s going on, but.” He stopped, looking up to see Keith’s eyes locked on him, wide and scared with lips parted, “I know you’re not all right. And I- I’m here to listen. If you want me to.”

The silence that followed was one of the longest and hardest of Lance’s life. He held Keith’s eyes, watched the minute changes in expression from fear to resolve that led to what came out of Keith’s mouth. 

“I want to eat biscuits and gravy.”

Lance blinked in surprise, but was quick to acquiesce. “Sure. Will room service have that? Otherwise we can order it from somewhere-”

“No,” Keith interjected. “I wanna go shopping then make them from scratch.”

Lace stared at him in surprise, but nodded. He knew what he saw in Keith’s face. If Keith needed biscuits and gravy in order to share his feelings, then so be it.

An hour later and Lance had burned their pop can of biscuits to little brown-black bricks. Keith’s gravy was a gloopy mess with only pepper to flavor it because they’d both forgotten to buy salt. 

Lance had suggested more than once that they simply order from some late night diner, but Keith would not be swayed. They sat down around the coffee table, Keith leaning against the couch with his legs stretched out in front of him and Lance curled up against the armchair. He took one courtesy bite of the biscuits and gravy before discovering that they truly were too terrible for human consumption.

Keith looked like he was fighting a battle, both with the terrible food on his plate and with himself. Lance said nothing, simply fetching a fresh bottle of water for Keith when he’d finished his first and refraining from offering to reheat Keith’s plate after it had surely gone cold. 

When one of Keith’s biscuits was gone he stopped to take a break, leaning back against the couch. He stared up at the ceiling, hair falling haphazardly into his eyes, and Lance was stuck thinking all over again about how _pretty_ Keith was.

With absolutely no preamble or context, Keith stated, “This is the meal Shiro always made for me when he patched me up.”

Lance thought for a moment, assuming Keith must be talking about when he and Shiro grew up together. “Is that something he did often?”

Keith hummed in agreement. “It was one of the only meals he knew how to make. He’d put the gravy on and then pull out the first aid kit. He bought cans of biscuits as often as he bought band-aids.”

Lance nodded, ears straining to hear every soft spoken word. This wasn’t Keith telling Lance a story, this was Keith speaking for himself. Lance just happened to be in the room and listening.

“The first time I was too beat up for him to patch up himself I was fifteen and he was- I don’t know how old he was. An upperclassman in high school. I had a broken nose. He’d found me on a park bench and dragged me to some shady twenty four hour doc so his parents wouldn’t find out about it- they were both doctors and would’ve thrown me out if they’d known, but they were never around the house when I was so it was fine.”

“You lived with Shiro’s family?” Lance asked softly.

“Yeah.” Keith huffed, the sound stilted and tight within his chest. “My mom was- she was gone for as long as I can remember. And when I was eleven my dad.” He paused, looking down at the plate and taking another bite of gravy drenched biscuit. “Shiro was dropping me off from where I’d spent the night at his house and. The house was empty. No car. No one in the barn, the tractor and truck both still there. He was just gone.”

He looked back up at the ceiling, and Lance could see the shine in his eyes. “I don’t remember all the searching we did. I just remember running out onto the main road, which was really dangerous because everyone took that road too fast and Pa was so scared of me being hit- but I just remember running out onto the asphalt, feeling it so hot beneath my feet, and turning and looking in both directions, like I was expecting to see his car or something instead of empty horizon.”

Lance felt his own chest tighten. “Keith…” he murmured.

“Shiro tried his best,” Keith continued on like he hadn’t heard Lance, too far in to pause now, “His parents adopted me and enrolled me in public school but they both worked so they didn’t have a lot of free time. I had been homeschooled on a ranch my entire life so I didn’t know a goddamn thing about how people worked.” He looked down, seemingly unaware of how his hands clenched at his sides, “I couldn’t _understand_ them, I couldn’t- they were just so _happy_ , all the time- and also so _mean_. I never got what was so funny.”

He gave a sharp exhale that hitched in the middle and picked up another bite of cold biscuit. “I put someone in the hospital my junior year of high school and spent senior year homebound. I was a fucking mess. Shiro kept me sane enough to stay out of any hard drugs but if he hadn’t been there I don’t know where I would’ve fucking ended up.”

He looked at Lance, “Shiro decided to go to grad school in California because of me. He may say it was the best choice or that he followed Matt, but I was definitely the deciding factor. When we came here he threw me into every sport he could find that I was willing to try and never said a word about college. When I voluntarily joined a dance team I’m sure he went to Matt and cried over a bottle of Pinot Grigio.”

Keith let his head fall back against the couch with a thump. “Shiro would say I’ve changed. But I don’t think so.” He rolled his head over to look at Lance, “I feel like I’m still just that fuck up kid in the desert, watching the horizon line for someone that won’t ever come home.”

Lance had been silently crying for a while now. He’d known Keith could be spacey sometimes, adrift in his own galaxy, had thought to himself at times that the boy seemed like he was from another dimension, but hearing this story made Lane realize that Keith had gone through things that no one should have had to go through. Hearing Keith say that he felt like a fuck up hurt Lance’s heart with an ache that was entirely new and utterly worse than anything he’d ever felt before.

He stood up, angrily brushing his tears away with the back of his hand, “You’re not a fuck up. You’re not. Are you saying all of this because of your time on set as Akira?”

Keith stood up too, dropping his empty plate and Lance’s full one in the sink, “How do you think I got the part Lance? I’m a shoo in for Akira because I’m just like him! I’m always going to be a failure, I’m never going to be good enough!”

“No you’re fucking not!” Lance yelled, his own hands balling up at his sides, “Akira gives in, he pushes away all the people that love him and want to help in favor of trying to do it all himself!”

“And isn’t that the smart thing to do?” Keith returned, his own voice raised, “What the fuck else are you supposed to do, let them into the mess?”

“Yes!” Lance shouted, “That’s how they help you!” He inhaled sharply, breath breaking on a sob. “We’re not _meant_ to do it on our own Keith. None of us are. Not you… and not me either.”

Keith froze, unsure what to do in the face of Lance’s tears. He looked off to the side, “But then they get hurt,” he murmured, so much of that ten year old little boy alone in the desert still in his voice.

“That’s their _choice_ ,” Lance said, voice raw and eyes red, “Don’t you _dare_ make that decision for them. What does it matter if you’re a mess? Let them help you! Who cares if you’re not good enough?”

“I care!” Keith said, taking a step towards Lance.

“Why do you care if you’re not good enough?” Lance insisted, exasperated.

“Because I’m not good enough for you!” Keith exclaimed. 

Lance inhaled sharply. 

“Because I’m not good enough for you.” Keith said again, voice soft and almost in wonder that he’d said it.

Instead of answering him, Lance surged forward, grabbing the lapels of Keith’s coat and keeping Keith flush against him while he pressed their lips together.

Lance didn’t want to dismiss Keith’s feelings by telling him that the idea he wasn’t good enough for Keith was absolutely crazy and unfounded. He instead wanted to reassure him that Lance wanted him, fervently, desperately, with every bone in his body. Hearing Keith talk about himself that way made Lance want to kiss him until there could be no doubt inn Keith’s mind that he was everything Lance had ever wanted and more.

He’d been holding back for so long, unsure of himself and where he and Keith stood, but now he could see that this hesitation hadn’t been good for either of them.

Keith was stunned when Lance kissed him, but then all of the want and desperation from the week came crashing through Keith’s self control and he was backing Lance up against the wall, tangling his hands in Lance’s hair and deepening the kiss.

Lance could feel himself go boneless when Keith manhandled him against the wall, and at the first flick of Keith’s tongue inside his mouth Lance couldn’t help the whine he pressed into Keith’s mouth.

When Lance pulled back for a breath Keith simply nipped along his jawline and down the side of his neck. While the new sensation was tinged with pain and pleasure that made Lance’s head spin, he wanted to keep kissing Keith.

He whined, grabbing fistfuls of Keith’s hair and dragging him up to his mouth. Keith eagerly returned the kiss, tugging Lance’s lower lip into his mouth and evoking another mewl from the boy writhing in his arms. 

Their kisses were wet, and filthy, and when Lance came up for air he stared at the glossy shine across Keith’s swollen lips. He’d done that. He’d made Keith look like that. 

The thought made him dart in for another kiss, but Keith pulled back, voice gone low and hoarse as he murmured, “Let’s take this to the bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER?
> 
> I feel it needs to be said that in the world of melodramatic fics like this, there are always huge heart to hearts between the characters but not a lot of therapy. If it makes you more comfortable to imagine that Shiro has been gently asking Keith to seek professional help for years, please feel free to do so. The power of love and shoujo tropes makes these boys a-okay but irl Keith should be with a counselor.
> 
> I'm posting this away from my sister for the summer like this fic began. In honor of its one year anniversary, after a year of slow burn... next chap is frick frack


	35. First Times are Forever Lace Singlet in Fuchsia and Violet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance affirm their feelings for one another in a very physical fashion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Obligatory author's note stating this is Baby's First Smut so Please Be Kind*
> 
> This was nearly broken into two chapters bc it got so long.... But I reigned myself in and managed to give it to you all at once.

When Lance’s head hit the pillows, Keith couldn’t help but pull back and stare. Even after all their time together, Keith was still struck by how beautiful the other boy was. In the dim light of the cityscape spilling in through the window, Lance’s body was lit up with an orange glow that made him looking more enticing than ever.

Lance shifted, uncomfortable with the intense gaze coming his way. It made the already uncomfortable situation in his pants even more uncomfortable.

“Keith~” He whined, drawing out the name in an effort to pull Keith’s attention back to him.

Keith leaned in, grinning, “Yeah?”

Lance glared back, not liking the smug smirk on Keith’s face. He surged up, hands tangling in Keith’s hair to pull him down for another deep kiss. 

Lance’s kisses made Keith just want to melt into him. His head went fuzzy and all that mattered was the slide of Lance’s tongue against his. Keith was bracing himself over Lance with a forearm, but he shifted his weight so he could get a hand under Lance’s shirt, pushing it up and out of the way so that all of that beautiful brown skin was exposed. As his hand glided over Lance’s side, feeling the hint of muscle that kept Lance so toned, the boy beneath him shivered.

He broke the kiss, pulling back to sit on Lance’s lap so he could see his face as Keith’s hands continued roaming across his body. 

Lance gave a sharp inhale when Keith’s second hand came up to run cross his skin. His exhale was nothing better, little more than a shaky moan as Keith chose that moment to lean in and suck a wet kiss high on Lance’s neck, right behind his ear.

Even though he currently felt like a boneless pile of jelly in Keith’s hands, Lance had the presence of mind to pull him off and murmur, “Don’t you dare, mullet head.”

Keith smirked, looking up at Lance as he skimmed his lips over Lance’s chest, “You afraid of a hickey?” He replied, voice a hot ghost of breath that made Lance squirm with another wave of sensation.

“Hickeys, no. Allura, ye- Oh!” Lance’s reply was cut off by a surprised gasp as Keith pulled Lance’s nipple into his mouth. Lance’s hands, which had been resting loosely in Keith’s hair, tightened; he didn’t know whether to pull him closer or push him away. Keith pulled off slowly, Lance’s nipple now hard and pebbled, and sending shocks of pleasure down his spine. Keith, seeing how affected Lance was, leaned back in and gave another slow lick, keeping his eyes on Lance the entire time. Lance couldn’t bear to meet his gaze, but also couldn’t look away. 

Keith pulled back, eyes dark and moving down Lance’s body like he couldn’t decide what to do next.

“Do you have any lube in your bedside drawer?” He asked, voice hoarse with arousal.

Lance hesitated for a moment, part of him embarrassed to admit he did indeed have lube stashed away, though why he’d be embarrassed about that after just having had Keith’s tongue in his mouth was a little nonsensical. That realization led to him nodding, a little shyly, and turning to pull out the half empty bottle of lube and one of the condoms he never thought would be used for an occasion like this.

Keith, settling back on his heels between Lance’s spread legs, saw how much of the bottle had been used and threw a knowing smirk at Lance.

“Shut up,” Lance grumbled, throwing a pillow at Keith, “Get back to work.”

Keith chuckled, for once letting Lance get away with the snark. Instead of replying, he snaked a hand under Lance’s hips to lift him off the bed and slide the pillow underneath. Then, he hooked his hands under the waistband of Lance’s pants and looked up, silently asking for permission.

Lance could feel the blush rising on his face. “You first,’’ he mumbled, not wanting to be the only one naked. His shirt was pushed up and he was about to be naked from the waist down, but Keith hadn’t even taken his coat or gloves off. 

Keith gave another smile- he was smiling a lot this evening- and pulled away from Lance. He stood up, taking off his belt and shrugging off the coat before stepping out of his pants. Lance was glad he was laying down because the wet spot against Keith’s bulge that showed how affected he was by everything going on made Lance weak in the knees.

Keith moved to take off his gloves next and Lance bit his lip to hold back a moan. He also couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Keith pulled each glove off with his teeth, and instead of looking like a fumbling mess it was completely, effortlessly hot. Lance wondered if he could convince Keith to keep the gloves on if they did this again sometime.

With a sinuous flex of his shoulders Keith’s shirt was over his head and tossed onto the growing pile. Left only in his clinging underwear he got back on the bed, eyeing Lance with a much darker look in his eye as he growled, “Can I continue now?”

Lance nodded, feeling like if he said anything it would come out entirely too high pitched and breathy to be anything he could live down.

Keith’s hands returned to Lance’s hips, and this time Lance obligingly arched up so Keith could slide his pants off and add them to their growing pile of discarded clothing on the floor.

Lance looked off to the side as it happened, the blush on his cheeks spreading up to his ears and down to his neck. The fire in Keith’s eyes made everything feel so much more intense. It didn’t help that Keith was taking his time. Nothing about this felt like a quick romp in the sheets. He’d kissed Keith in order to reassure him of Lance’s feelings. Now, feeling the way Keith was touching him, Lance could see that Keith was also reassuring himself. And, with all of his affection being so kind and gentle and relentlessly tender, Lance was receiving reassurance from Keith as well. The way their bodies moved together was assuaging any doubts either of them had.

Keith was so focused on getting Lance’s pants off that he hadn’t even thought about his underwear. Perched low on Lance’s hips was a beautiful design of lace and delicate tulle ruffles in a rich purple that brought out all the warm tones in Lance’s skin. Keith gave a sharp inhale and stared, frozen, for several seconds before Lance shifted restlessly, curving his waist and exposing the delicate bow on his side that Keith realized was all that held the underwear on Lance’s hips.

Finally, Lance turned his head against the pillow, looking up at Keith with a shy turn of his head. “Keith?”

“Sorry, I just-” Keith cut himself off, skimming a hand over Lance’s hip bone and sneaking a finger under the ruffled edging, “You’re beautiful.”

Lance’s eyes widened before he chuckled and said, “You talking to me or the underwear?”

Keith snorted, “Which do you think, genius?”

I don’t know~” Lance replied, “Sometimes you can be pretty- whoa!”

Keith had cut Lance off by darting forward and pulling Lance’s shirt off. It was only the boy’s limp limbs that kept the shirt from ripping.

“Pretty?” Keith asked, “Yeah, you are.”

Lance was surprised into speechlessness once again, staring at Keith with vibrant red across his cheeks. He remembered when Keith had left him stunned at the restaurant with his surprisingly good flirtations. He didn’t know if his heart would be able to take it if Keith talked to him like that the whole night. Keith, seeing Lance only staring at him in silence, thought that he might be embarrassed again at now being, for all intents and purposes, entirely naked. He leaned in, his nose almost bumping Lance’s, and gave him another kiss, sweet, insistent, and warm. Lance couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. When Keith pulled back, Lance returned his gaze for a moment before his eyes shifted to the lube, still laying innocuously on the bed.

“So are we going to use that or-”

Keith shifted in a sinuous twist of abdominal muscles that had Lance starting to drool all over again. When he sat back, now with the lube in easy reach, he eyed Lance’s panties with a look he couldn’t decipher.

“Is there something wrong, Keith?” he asked.

“Nah, I just-” Keith blushed, the color bright on his pale skin, “I was just thinking you look so good in them I don’t want to-” he stuttered, embarrassment peeking through, “To take them off to prep you.”

There was a pause before Lance burst into a fit of giggles, “Oh my god,” He gasped, “Keith, you’re amazing.” He looked up at him, schooling his face into the most serious expression he could manage, “I have many, many pairs of underwear and next time I will make sure to wear some you can keep on.” He chuckled again, enthused by the idea of Keith being so turned on by his underwear.

Keith tried to keep the surprise off his face when Lance oh so casually promised a next time. Though, he supposed there really couldn’t be any doubting of Lance’s feelings for him now. The comfort and safety that came with knowing that Keith’s feelings were returned had him swooping in to plunder another kiss from Lance’s lips, their panting breaths echoed into each other’s mouths and the wet sounds of their tongues eagerly exploring each other being swallowed up by the plush bedding. 

Keith pulled away eventually, snaking one hand down to the tie on each of Lance’s hips and pulling. 

The panties fell away and Lance consciously focused on relaxing his thighs and letting them fall open rather than clamping them shut. Keith’s touches were soft, barely whispers against Lance’s skin. At first, Keith didn’t even care about prepping Lance or touching his dick, even though it lay proud against his stomach. He was just focused on the warmth of Lance’s skin, and how smooth he felt under his touch. He could feel the tremor in Lance’s skin at his touch.

He moved his hands ever inward, slowly exploring more and more of Lance’s body until he was tracing the junction between hip and leg. He ghosted his hand up his shaft, Lance inhaling at finally getting some sensation on his dick. 

Keith heard Lance’s gasp and instead of continuing to touch him, he grabbed the lube and poured a generous amount on three of his fingers. He waited a moment for the chill to hopefully abate somewhat before he lowered his hand back to Lance’s entrance, spreading the lube and teasing at his hole, Lance watching him with knitted brows. Keith leaned in, murmuring comforting nonsense into Lance’s neck as his fingers continue their work. When he finally pushed a finger in, Lance was relaxed enough that it didn’t hurt, merely provided another layer to the overwhelming sensations sweeping his body. Lance was so wound up by all of Keith’s ministrations that the feeling of one finger within him only had him eager for more. He whimpered, nudging at Keith to wordlessly ask for a second. 

The other boy obliged, nudging a second finger in and letting Lance get used to the feeling before nudging his fingers apart in an effort to help Lance relax even further. He could see minute flashes of discomfort over Lance’s face, and his erection was beginning to falter. Keith debated getting lube on his other hand too before deciding that the mess wouldn’t be worth it and wrapping his hand, still warm and dry, around Lance’s cock, giving a steady tug in time with his fingers inside Lance.

Lance had been waiting for what felt like ages for that warm cradle of sensation around his cock, and when he finally got it he had to clench his fists to keep himself from coming. It was too early yet for him to come, Lance had to hold out for at least a little while longer. The dual sensation of Keith’s fingers inside him, periodically hitting his prostate, and Keith’s hand around his cock, squeezing on the upstroke and twisting at the head, made focusing on not coming hard to do. The dry rasp of Keith’s strokes along his length had Lance bucking up into his hand for more, and with every draw back and push forward Lance was also pushing Keith’s fingers deeper inside of him.

The sight of Lance fucking himself open on Keith’s fingers was enough to make him want to skip prep and just fuck him open on his cock instead. Not too long ago, Keith had stared at all those boudoir photos of Lance thinking that the boy was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Now, he knew that no photoshoot Lance had ever done could compare to how he looked right now. Keith hadn’t even gotten his cock in him but Lance was already glassy eyed and open mouthed, huffs of breath leaving him with every roll of his hips as he chased the sensation Keith was giving him.

Keith added a third finger with no warning, just to watch Lance’s mouth fall open and hear a helpless moan break over his lips. Lance’s thighs were clenching around him, in tandem with the way he was moving around Keith’s fingers. Keith removed his fingers and pulled off Lance’s dick, making a mental note to suck Lance off the next time they did this, and leaned in for another kiss, thrusting his tongue into Lance’s mouth and biting at his lip.

“You ready?” He breathed.

“Y-yeah,” Lance replied, a tremble in his voice from how strung-out he was, “I- Keith I’m not gonna la-last long.”

“That’s all right,” Keith murmured, reaching for the lube, “Neither will I.”

He sat back on his calves and rolled on the condom before he began to lube himself up. If Lance hadn’t already been so focused on making sure he didn’t cum too soon, the sight of Keith stroking himself off right in front of him would have done it. The dip in Keith’s collarbones brushed by his inky black hair, ruffled by how Lance had been burying his hands in it; the sweat trailing down his pecs and the faint ridges of his abs; the tendon in his forearm that flexed and relaxed with every stroke of his arm- he looked like sex incarnate.

Keith’s hand on his dick was the most sensation he’d gotten all night, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek, hard, to keep from coming. The slick feeling of fucking his hand was so good, especially with the view he had- Lance splayed out with lube leaking between his legs and precum shining on his stomach- but Keith kept it short. He wanted to come while fucking Lance, not his fist.

He planted his dry hand by Lance’s head, looking between Lance’s face and his hole as he lined himself up and pressed in. His prep had gotten lube everywhere, and Lance was hot and slick and so _so_ good around Keith, enveloping him and squeezing in the most addicting way possible.

Keith’s dick felt like an impossible stretch for Lance. As he pressed in with gentle, minute thrusts, edging his cock deeper within Lance, he thought that he could feel Keith reshaping him around his cock. Keith pushed in so slowly Lance thought it went on forever, a never ending stretch he’d feel for a long time to come.

When Keith hissed, “I’m in. How do you feel?” Lance almost couldn’t believe it. The stretch had felt interminable, he felt like he’d been laying there for hours simply being split open on Keith’s cock.

“I feel-” he whispered, voice cutting out. He swallowed and tried again, looking at Keith and moving a hand up to grasp at Keith’s wrist near his head, “I feel full.” He murmured. “Really full.”

Keith chuckled, “Flattering, but not exactly the answer I was looking for.”

Lance did his best to glare at Keith and tightened around him as payback for the snark. Keith gave a sharp gasp and his hips snapped forward in reflex. Lace let out a keening moan he couldn’t help. 

Keith panted shallowly before he said, “I was more wondering if you were okay for me to begin actually fucking you, but I think I just got my answer.”

Lance nodded eagerly, knowing he wouldn’t last more than a few minutes but wanting to feel Keith moving inside him. He turned his head, kissing Keith’s arm.

The boy above him chuckled again, “You’re cute.”

Lance opened his mouth to reply, but instead let out a wrecked moan as Keith chose that moment to snap his hips forward and bury himself in Lance. He set a hard pace, every roll of his hips aiming to make Lance feel it. Keith’s first few thrusts were a little slow, and he reached under to pull the pillow so Lance’s hips were even higher. Then, on his next thrust, he hit Lance’s prostate, and Lance was an absolute goner.

Keith’s lubed hand came back to Lance’s cock, stroking him in time with Keith’s thrusts, and Lance wasn’t even trying to hold back the moans and whimpers. He could feel Keith’s thrusts moving him up and down the bed, the thought of which made his cock twitch in Keith’s hand.

“Keith, Keith I’m gonna-” Lance broke off into another whimper.

“Cum for me, Lance,” Keith grunted, his hand mercilessly tight around Lance’s cock.

Lance came with a weak cry, his glassy eyes rolling back and his ass milking Keith relentlessly. Lance opened his eyes, a few small tears rolling down his cheek from the intensity of his orgasm, still weakly clenching around Keith as the other boy chased his own end.

The feeling of Lance coming around drove Keith to the brink, and he only lasted a few thrusts more before he himself was also coming, filling the condom and spilling himself deep inside Lance.

They both stayed there for a few minutes, breathing heavily and enjoying the afterglow. Keith eventually pulled out, tying off the condom and stumbling into the bathroom on less than steady legs to bring out a warm washcloth for Lance.

The other boy had gone completely boneless on the bedding, allowing Keith to maneuver his body however he needed to so he could clean Lance of the cum on his stomach and the lube on his thighs. After a perfunctory clean up of himself as well, Keith collapsed into bed next to Lance.

Lance roused himself from his blissed out post orgasm haze to roll into Keith, laying his head on his chest and putting one hand on his sternum.

“That was nice.” He murmured.

“Only nice?” Keith muttered back. 

“Ok, more than nice. Try some of the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Keith planted a kiss into Lance’s hair, hiding his grin against the disheveled locks. “Glad you feel that way.”

“You’re grinning, aren’t you?” Lance muttered. “Smug bastard.”

Keith chuckled, running a soothing hand up and down Lance’s back as apology. “Hey Lance,” he murmured.

“What?”

“Thanks. I- I really like you. I’m not really- the best relationship material but. I want to- with you.”

Lance roused himself enough to put both hands on Keith’s chest and lift his head up to look at him, “Yeah? You like me? Well it’s not exactly as if I have a stellar relationship record either. But when two people like each other, it’s only obvious that they should start a relationship.”

Keith crooked a half smile at Lance, “We could have done this a long time ago.”

Lance shrugged, looking over Keith and out the window, “We’re both idiots.” He looked back at Keith, “But now we’re each other’s idiots.” 

They each shared a soft grin, made softer by the diffused glow of the warm city lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHAHA ur welcome folks next chap they navigate couplehood and Drama starts on set.  
> I hope you enjoyed this filthy sinful chapter, leave a comment or a kudos, and maybe suggest what you'd wanna see in another second smut chapter?


	36. Heart on My Sleeve Delicate Lacy Bralette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance end their time together on set... with an enthusiastic bang!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO ALL! I COME TO YOU WITH S O MANY THINGS! First, sorry for the late update. I tried to get this finished before I went on vacation, but clearly that didn't happen, my b (idk why y'all're still reading this when I CLEARLY have chronic time management problems). Second, WE. HAVE. FANART. chapters 1, 17 and 25 NOW HAVE ILLUSTRATIONS, ONE OF WHICH IS A FAN ART, GO SEE THEM, GO GO GO!!! GIVE ALAMIKZ SOME LOVE FOR THEIR AMAZING DRAWING!! Also please tell me down in the comments, do you guys prefer your images embedded within the chapter, or at the end of a chapter? I linked and embedded at the end of the chapter, but do you like them better by the actual paragraphs they're showcasing? Discuss!

When Keith had first hatched his crazy ass plan to break into the modeling world and show up Lance McClain, he said he did it to show the world what kind of person Lance was.

That wasn’t exactly true.

Keith really couldn’t even put it into words himself, but he’d loved the supermodel Lance McClain, and those feelings wouldn’t have died quietly. Keith had thought Lance was amazing- he drew people in and made them want to be a part of something bigger than themselves. Keith hadn’t felt that way about many people, and feeling it for some sexed-up supermodel was something unexpectedly vulnerable for him, like it was too vapid for him to really care about. Even though he’d never admit it, Keith had been embarrassed to like Lance so much and so fast. He had felt insecure about his place as a fan, had worried that it was disrespectful to the model to drool over his legs in a garter belt, thong and nothing else. Keith had worried he was pathetic for spending so much energy on someone he’d never meet or interact with, much less gain anything from.

When he’d met the real Lance McClain in person and heard his diatribe-filled rant, it was all of Keith’s insecurities about his fan status thrown in his face by the person who was the very cause of them. That had hurt. It had crushed Keith’s ego, made him embarrassed, and also indignant that he would spend this much energy on someone who wasn’t worth it. Keith might have told Shiro he was on the warpath for justice, but really it had been a hurt boy lashing out in an effort to have his feelings validated.

Now, many long months later, knowing the real Lance- his dorky nature, his fears of inadequacy, his deep and fervent love for the little family he’d carved out for himself at Altea- Keith could only marvel at the difference in awareness and perspective he not only had on  
Lance, but that Lance had on him.

Laying together in Keith’s hotel bed, Lance’s pristine and untouched since yesterday’s housekeeping visit, Keith couldn’t believe how far the two of them had come. He’d woken up first, which would have been surprising except that Lance’s body was probably feeling the effects of their romp in the sheets much more than Keith’s. He didn’t mind being awake first; content to simply gaze down at Lance’s sleeping face where it lay on his chest, Lance’s warm breath ghosting up into his collarbone. Keith would be content to lay there all morning, but unfortunately they still had another two days of shooting on location, then another week back in L.A.. 

Keith was unsure how to wake Lance, as he didn’t exactly have a lot of experience in rousing lovers from post-coital rest. He settled for brushing a hand down Lance’s back, and when that didn’t work he shook the other boy’s shoulder gently. Lance didn’t exactly rouse himself but he did nuzzle his face into Keith’s shoulder and murmur, “No.”

The other boy couldn’t help but smile when he thought about how different this was from when they’d woken up together at that Voltron photoshoot, the scent of Lance’s shampoo in his hair and Keith so, so very shocked that Lance would cling to him in his sleep.

He shook Lance harder, and when Lance stubbornly continued dozing Keith just shrugged and grabbed Lance’s arm where it lay limp over his waist, bringing it up to his mouth and giving it a disgustingly wet lick.

Lance shrieked and scrambled back in bed shouting, “What the FUCK- oh it’s you, Keith.” Lance looked down at his arm, “That was fucking disgusting, dude.”

Keith shrugged, “You wouldn’t wake up.”

“So you _licked_ me?” Lance cried.

“Good morning,” Keith replied, utterly unbothered.

Lance made to shift his body, only to give a large wince. Keith couldn’t help the blush that rose on his face at the sight. “Are- are you all right?” He asked. 

Lance glared, “I can see that satisfaction written all over your face you know. You could at least try to hide how proud of yourself you are.”

Keith pointedly looked out the window, feeling the pink on his cheeks spreading up to his ears. “You said it was some of the best sex you've ever had.” He was very proud of himself for not stumbling over the word sex in reference to sleeping with Lance McClain.

Lance’s eyebrows went up and his mouth fell open in a little ‘o’, the perfect picture of surprise. “I- Well okay I guess I did say that but- don’t mention it so casually,” he finished in embarrassment.

Keith peered at Lance, “What are you embarrassed about?”

“Nothing, I suppose,” Lance began, “It was just- I was- You were.” He huffed, “You are very good at what you did- do. And you were- kinda hot. So remembering it is also kinda hot.”

This time Keith didn’t even attempt to hide his grin. It had struck him suddenly, the ridiculousness of it all. Lance fucking McClain, international supermodel, stuttering because of a good dicking.

Lance threw a pillow at him, “Fuck you, Keith, I’m never fucking you again!”

“Never?” Keith asked, “Are you sure? We’re a couple now, are you dooming us both to chastity?” The smile on his face only widened at being able to say that, to call them a couple and have it be the utter and absolute truth.

Lance moved to get off the bed, “Yes, dooming us for the reminder of what will be short lives if Allura finds out we were fucking instead of filming.”

Keith laughed, getting off the bed and helping the other boy to the shower. Lance came out looking much less disheveled, and Keith ordered up breakfast for the both of them. They ate in a comfortable silence, Lance swinging his feet up to rest in Keith’s lap under the table, his polished toes just peeking out from Keith’s side.

“Hey,” Lance began, having thought of something in the shower that he knew he wanted to make clear, “The- the stuff last night-”

At the look Keith shot him Lance hastened to clarify, “Not the sex stuff. The stuff before that. All the- the stuff you told me about.” 

He put down his spoon, holding Keith’s eyes, who suddenly looked like he wanted to run from the room, “That was really hard for you to talk about. It’s been weighing you down for so long with no one to tell it to- I understand now why you couldn’t say anything to Shiro.” 

Lance looked into his half empty glass of orange juice, pulp clinging to the sides of the glass, “The fact that you opened up to me instead, it’s. It’s amazing.”

He looked up again, “You’re amazing, Keith. I’m really proud of you for what you did last night. I-” He trailed off, gathering his thoughts, “When I told you about Lotor, I thought to myself ‘this is it. If Keith ever wanted to date me before, he certainly doesn’t now. No one wants to be with a mess like me.’” He trailed a finger along the edge of his plate, gathering droplets of syrup and smearing them into new patterns. “But you did. You do. And I- I want you, too. All the stuff that’s happened to you- I wanna know about it, and share it with you.” He reached out with his clean hand, laying it over Keith’s. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Keith inhaled and it was deeper and shakier than he’d like. To have opened up to Lance and be met with such love and acceptance was something Keith had never thought he’d get from someone- much less someone he cared about so greatly. He didn't want to cry first thing in the morning, so instead he focused on how happy Lance’s words made him feel. “Thanks, Lance,” he whispered, “You’re not alone either.”

~~~

A little under a week later and on a crew flight back to L.A., Keith was asleep on Lance’s shoulder and if Lance was honest, he could tell his boyfriend was drooling. Lance tried to find it in himself to be disgusted, but he just couldn’t. Instead he spent the entire flight tracing his thumb along Keith’s knuckles and thinking about all thing things they could do together once they were done with this shoot and back to normal.

In L.A., Keith had about a week’s worth of miscellaneous scenes, things from all over the season and with all sets of supporting characters, as Keith was the lone wolf playing for no team but his own. Lance didn’t think he could get tired of watching Keith run around in tight jeans and black shirts, but after spending an entire morning watching the crew try to get a good shot of him speeding away on a motorcycle, Lance thought he might go mad with boredom. He could only clear so many levels of Panda Pop and Candy Crush at a time. 

He said as much to Keith at their lunch break. The two of them had wandered down a side hall a little ways away from the lunch spread and the dressing rooms, hoping for a moment of alone time in all the chaos of the set. Lance was leaned up against a wall, hands on Keith’s hips and his boyfriend’s face within kissing distance.

“Do you know what?” Lance asked, letting his head thunk against the back of the wall.

“What?” Keith replied, eyeing Lance up like he was debating the logistics of sucking a hickey on his neck without getting caught in this very public hallway.

The rest of the crew was, of course, also on break. Axca, who’d been cast as a supporting character, was headed towards an emergency exit hoping for a smoke break when she saw the two guest stars. 

The two of them hadn’t been people she’d paid much attention to. She’d met them at the cast meeting, and then they’d flown out for the season finale and she’d stuck around to film on set. But seeing them around today, they seemed naggingly familiar.

Instead of walking past them, Axca hung back, partially feeling put off by the intimate atmosphere between the two but also just curious for a better look at them.

Isamu was smiling down at Akira, who seemed to be waiting for Isamu to speak, “I’m going to be really glad when we get out of here and stop having to pretend,” Isamu said, “All this running around in disguise has kind of lost the novelty. I just want to be able to introduce you as ‘my boyfriend Keith.’”

The other boy, who was apparently not named Akira but in fact Keith, replied, “I know what you mean. It still feels a little unreal to me that I’m dating Lance McClain the supermodel, because we’ve been buried so deep in Akira and Isamu.”

Axca already had her phone out and recording. Lotor was going to be either ecstatic or livid. Probably some combination of both. Apparently his ex Lance McClain was dating Keith- who she was sure was the Keith Kogane that had left Galra Modelling not so long ago- and the two were doing increasingly bigger projects together. Lance wasn’t going anywhere, and it was clear Lotor hadn’t broken him. He was not going to be pleased about this.

He was going to be delighted.

~~~

Their last night in the hotel Lance decided they would have a quiet night in with a home cooked meal before they went back to their own apartments and stopped being able to share their daily lives together- though, since they were dating, they would no doubt still be seeing a lot of each other.

Keith emerged from the bathroom freshly showered and feeling very refreshed. Instead of shying away from Lance and head straight to bed like he’d done for so many of their nights together, he joined Lance, who stood putting the finishing touches on their chicken and rice. Feeling a warm swell of affection for the boy, Keith simply blanketed his back against Lance’s.

“Well hello to you too,” Lance chuckled. “But I’m afraid you got comfy only to have to move again. I’m plating up dinner.”

Keith groaned but moved off him, grabbing the plate Lance had prepared for him and carrying his water bottle with him to their eating area. 

Lance thought the pouting was adorable, but when he spoke he let fond exasperation color his voice, “Act like that and I won’t let you eat this. I have kale in the fridge- don’t make me feed you a salad.”

The threat of leafy greens sufficient enough to have Keith sitting up properly in his chair, the two tucked in to Lance’s home cooking.

However, barely a bite in, Keith paused and started scrutinizing his rice, “Hey Lance, are you sure the rice is the rice safe to eat?”

Lance paused with his own fork halfway to his mouth, caught by surprise at the unexpected question, “Yes,” he answered tentatively, “Why would it not be?”

Keith gestured to the spices interspersed throughout the fluffy white rice, “It’s got all these- bits in it.” He looked like they had personally offended him.

Lance couldn’t help but giggle, “That’s seasoning, Keith.” He gestured airily, “They’re _spices_.”

“You can season rice?” 

The wonder in Keith’s voice made Lance wince, “Your adoptive family’s last name is Shirogane, Keith. Are you about to tell me there wasn’t _any_ nod to Japanese heritage in your household?”

“Are you about to tell me,” Keith responded, “That you think good, honest Japanese folk would season their rice?”

Lance squawked in dismay, “Are you about to tell me they don’t?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Keith replied, a smirk hiding in the corner of his mouth at having successfully led Lance on, “We ate pretty much only Western food because Shiro did almost all of the cooking and he never learned any Japanese dishes.”

Once Lance was done chastising Keith for teasing him like that, and for living his whole life with plain white rice, a companionable silence fell over the two that lasted until the meal was finished, the dishes put away and the kitchen cleaned. With dinner taken care of, the two retired to the couch in the living room, Lance curling into Keith’s side and looking up into his boyfriend’s face.

“So,” he began, “It’s our last night in the hotel. Did you have any special plans in mind for our last night together?”

Keith cocked his head to the side, “Like… a date? No I didn’t really think we had a date planned. You said you wanted to stay in.”

Lance sighed, reminding himself that his boyfriend could be adorably dumb, “No, honey, not a date, I did want to stay in.” He leaned in closer to Keith, “I was thinking we could have a big night in,” he breathed, lashes fluttering, “Just the two of us.”

Keith’s eyes widened as he caught on, “Oh, you want a movie night!”

Lance huffed, “Well I was definitely hoping you’d put on a show.”

“What do you want to watch?” Keith made to move towards the remote.

Lance huffed, feeling the last of his patience snap like the elastic band of a thong over his tight, tight ass, “I _want_ , Keith, to see you writhing on top of me- or underneath me, I’m not picky- but at this point I don’t think-”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence before Keith was on him, thighs spread over Lance’s lap and back arched as he kissed into Lance’s mouth. With his boyfriend kissing him so sweetly, any irritation Lance felt quickly melted away into arousal. After only a few moments Lance took his hands and guided them to the top of his silky sleep shorts, where he was hoping Keith would want to revisit an idea from last time they’d played around together.

“Keith,” he purred, “You can do whatever you want to this pair.”

Keith pulled back, confusion clouding his eyes for a split second before it cleared with a look so eager it was almost cute, “You talking about your panties?”

“I am indeed,” Lance chuckled, “These ones are all yours to rip, tear or otherwise ruin as you see fit.”

Keith stood, pulling Lance with him towards the bedroom, but they barely got out of the living area and into the hallway before Keith's hands were on him again, grabbing at his hips while they kissed desperately.

Lance laughed, “We’re not even in the bedroom, Keith. If you think you're going to do this with me pinned against the wall you're mistaken.”

Keith pulled back from the kiss, “How did I ever end up with someone like you? What did I do to deserve you?”

Lance reached out and took Keith’s face in his hands, “You deserve all of this and more, Keith. I mean it.”

Keith gave a heavy sigh, letting his head thump into the wall behind Lance's head, “I put someone in the hospital,” he reminded Lance.

Lance hummed, running a hand through Keith's hair in an absent gesture of comfort, the words he whispered coming so easily it was like they’d been waiting behind his teeth all along, “During my time with the Galra I nearly put _myself_ in the hospital. We all have skeletons in our past, baggage we carry with us, but it’s not who we are. It’s not who _you_ are.” 

He grabbed a handful of Keith’s hair, pulling him away so Lance could fix his eyes on his boyfriend, “Do you know, this whole time I’ve thought there’s been one huge difference between you and Akira?”

Keith nodded like he knew the answer and was convinced of its surety, “Yeah, he doesn't have Shiro.”

“No,” Lance murmured, “It’s not that. It’s that he’s given up. From the very first scene, he’s fighting a doomed fight because he doesn’t believe the best in himself.” He smiled at Keith, “You, on the other hand? You never give up or give in. You're always fighting for the best, whether it’s in yourself or in others.”

Keith was so stunned at Lace’s words that the other boy was able to dart in and press a kiss to his cheek, “Did you not notice that?” He laughed, “I thought you were the actor, not me.”

“I’ve just never really thought of myself as a fighter,” Keith muttered. 

Lance laughed again, bright and airy and everything Keith wanted, “Keith, I’ve never thought of you as anything else.”

The mood between the two of them had gone on a roller coaster of a ride. Their next kisses were sweet and unhurried, just soft reacquaintances of their lips done because they could. 

When things started to heat up again, Keith pulled away from Lance, pressing one last kiss to his lips as he murmured, “I won’t do this with you _pinned_ against the wall. You’ll be staying there of your own volition.”

Lance didn’t get a chance to ask what Keith meant before his boyfriend was sinking to his knees and nuzzling at Lance’s sleep shorts with his nose.

“Oh _Keith_ ,” Lance breathed, realizing what the other boy had in mind.

Hooking his hands in Lance’s waistband Keith pulled it down, leaving the shorts to pool around Lance’s feet. He leaned in, brushing his lips across the soft silk and lace at Lance’s front with a look of reverence in his eyes.

“Been wanting to do this since the moment I got you naked,” Keith rumbled, voice low and rough. He looked like a man come to worship.

Lance’s hands curled at his sides and his head thunked against the wall as Keith mouthed at the rapidly growing interest in Lance’s underwear. He was beginning to think the lace cheeky hadn’t been such a good idea because the lace scraped at the sensitive head of his cock and every movement of Keith’s tongue had an extra layer of sensation thanks to the cloth between them.

Lance let out a moan he was helpless to hold back when Keith’s hand came up to pull him free of the panties. Keith, because he apparently wasn’t kidding about ruining Lance’s panties, only pulled them down enough to get at Lance’s shaft, leaving his balls to be groped and fondled in the now sopping wet and ruined lace.

Keith swallowed him down, his lips wet and his mouth hot with no hint of teeth, only his soft palette and the barest whisper of the back of his throat before he was backing off Lance, only to repeat the entire mind blowing process and take him a little farther down.

Lance hadn’t known Keith was this fantastic at head, but now he knew this was how he wanted to die.

Keith’s knees were aching, his dick was horrifically uncomfortable; he had spit running down his chin and tears smarting in his eyes- and he was the happiest he’d been all day. Keith loved sucking dick. Something about being able to so single-mindedly chase his partner’s pleasure spoke to him on a very deep level, and as he worked himself over Lance’s cock, drooling down the shaft and tonguing the thick vein and making sure to moan every time he took Lance to the back of his throat, Keith couldn’t help but hope that his boyfriend had many more pairs of panties that he wouldn’t mind ruining.

Lance did his best to let Keith know he was close, tangling his hands in Keith’s hair and moaning something that was supposed to be words but really just sounded like more of the same mewls and groans he’d been giving all night. And anyway, Keith didn’t seem to care, he just looked Lance dead in the eye and slid so low that his nose brushed against the bow at the front of Lance’s panties, and that was it. Lance was a goner, pumping his cum down Keith’s throat and watching helplessly as Keith swallowed it all down and then licked his cock for more. 

As Lance began to shiver from oversensitivity, he pulled on Keith’s hair to get him off his cock. Keith stood up, a minor shake in his legs from all the time on his knees, and Lance leaned into him, whining for a kiss. 

“You like that?” Keith muttered. 

“Uh-huh,” Lance hummed. “I think you’re going to have to carry me to the bed, though.”

Keith gave a smile that was downright predatory, “Oh, we’re continuing this on the bed are we?”

Lance gave a shriek as he was tossed over Keith’s shoulder and a firm slap to his ass had him squealing as he was carried down the hall. As he was tossed on the bed with Keith stalking on after him Lance couldn’t help but think he wanted every night to be just like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So another thing to discuss in comments besides image embedding: I'm not tagging Lance's complicated history with self-care as affected by his time with the Galra. I want to leave it as ambiguous as possible bc to give it the gravity and attention it needs would be a) heavy b) not what Lance wants rn bc he's moved past it and learned to take better care of himself and c) it could be really upsetting for all of us who have struggled with self-care. HOWEVER. In the next couple chappies we tacklin that ultimate bad boi Lotor, and if you see something you think needs a trigger warning, yell at me so I can slap it on there and keep our dear readers from getting freaked. Sound good? Cool.
> 
> Now, go look at the fanart, coo at the artist, and tell me what you thought of the chapter! Did you see something you liked? Did I use a smut idea you suggested? Are you W O R R I E D about Axca? We're approaching the end of this story with only a couple plot arcs left, and I want to thank everyone who's stuck with me. The outpouring of support from my readers has been more invigorating than anything else I can think of and each and every one of you means so so much to me. Thank you o(╥﹏╥)


	37. Gotta Keep It Together Strappy Underbust Corset in Dove Grey with Low Cut Boxer Briefs in Charcoal or Soot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance leave the Marmora set, but their roles there follow them into civilian life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Takashi Shirogane, Disaster Gay and Love of my Life. I have no further comments at this time.

Lance and Keith were officially done with shooting. Their first day free of filming they met with Allura. The grin on her face let Keith and Lance know that she was _immensely_ proud of herself, she looked like the cat that got the cream. 

Suspecting that their recent upgrade in relationship status might be the reason for her glee, Lance threw himself into one of the chairs in her office and mumbled, “You shouldn’t be proud of orchestrating people’s lives like some kind of evil mastermind- some of us like to be free to make our own choices, you know.”

Allura’s smirk did not lessen, in fact if anything it widened, “I applaud your choices, Lance, and I didn’t have a thing to do with them.” She cut her eyes to Keith standing behind Lance, “Though if I may be so forward I’d like to be the first to congratulate you two on _finally_ getting together.” She pulled out a thick stack of paper and let it land on her desk with a solid thunk, “And the first to remind you two that not a hint of your relationship can be public until after the show has premiered. We want the media focused on the show, not you two.” She gave an understanding smile to the two of them, “Though I know you two probably want to play it as quietly as possible anyway. Relationships do not thrive in the face of the public.”

Lance shuddered, having been witness to enough paparazzi scandals that he didn’t want to be the center of one. “Trust me Allura, we’re keeping this to just friends and family right now.” He looked back at Keith, reaching for his hand, “When we _do_ make this public, you’ll be the only one who gets to decide how to break the story.”

~~~

Being back at Altea felt almost as surreal as having Keith as a boyfriend. It was the little things that got to Lance, like the way Keith looked up from the dinner invite Hunk had sent out and said, “We going together?” Like it was understood that they would be. Lance didn’t know that he’d ever get used to it. 

When the two met up with Hunk and Pidge for dinner the same day they’d seen Allura, something in their body language led Pidge to skeptically tilt her head to the side and say, “I thought two weeks of forced cohabitation would leave you two mortal enemies. Instead you look like friends now.”

Keith frowned, “We used to be friends.” He side-eyed Lance, “I don’t think we can call ourselves that anymore though.”

Lance squawked, “Don’t say it like that!” He grabbed Keith’s hand, pulling it close, “We’re dating.”

Hunk nodded sagely, “Glad to see it finally happened. Keith has gone from wanting to punch Lance’s face to wanting to sit on it.”

As Pidge screeched about how gross it was that Hunk would allude to their no doubt disgusting sex life, Keith couldn’t help but give a small, secret smile as he thought about how far the two of them had truly come. That antagonistic lingerie shoot between the two of them felt like so long ago, and while he would never forget the horror of their cornerstore meeting, the memory didn’t hold the sting it once used to.

When Keith next saw Shiro and broke the news to his older brother, Shiro just grinned and said, “You know what this means?” He turned to Matt, with a thick voice and tears in his eyes, “It means I finally get to have Keith bring someone over for dinner.” He clasped Keith’s hands in his, eyes shining, “I’ve waited so long for this. I’m so happy for you.”

Keith grimaced, “I’m not inviting Lance over for dinner, that would be weird!”

Shiro frowned, “I have his number, if you don’t do it I’ll text him myself.”

Keith held out for all of three seconds before giving in and texting his boyfriend, not wanting Lance and Shiro to become texting buddies. Shiro’s texts were insufferable enough on their own with the amount of emojis he used, Keith did not want Lance picking up his bad habits and penchant for kaomojis.

A chime on his phone alerted him to a quick reply from Lance, “Will this Wednesday be okay?”

Shiro smiled, “Sure. Text me what Lance wants to eat.”

Keith grimaced, already regretting this decision.

~~~

After only a couple days of downtime, Lance was already booked for another shoot, this one of the Victoria’s Secret spreads for their fall line. He was expecting to get called about the Victoria’s Secret fashion show any day now; last year he’d been the angel in the Fantasy Bra, but this year he was probably only going to feature in one or two sets.

He knew Allura had something big in mind for the end of the year, and even if Victoria’s Secret had approached him about playing a larger part in their show he would probably have said no so that he’d be available for whatever over-the-top secret project Allura was surely planning.

Meanwhile, Keith had let Allura know that he wasn’t interested in another gig for at least the next two weeks. Doing a long TV shoot had been amazing, but he didn’t think he’d be doing it again anytime soon. Keith was quickly coming to realize that if he wanted to keep dance in his life, fashion modelling was much more suited to his needs. 

The two week break would be spent at the dance studio putting together a pole routine and helping with the coaching of the youth team for another hip hop competition. Keith was eager to see them compete; their skills were respectable and he fully expected them to place.

~~~

Lance had met Shiro before. He’d even met Matt before, at that fateful Voltron party. He’d met Keith’s family before, so he didn’t know why he was nervous. It might be that he was meeting them as a significant other, not a friend or a co-worker. It might also be that Keith gave him the impression that Shiro was very, _very_ excited for dinner. 

More than anything, though, Lance thought that it was that he simply didn’t know what to _bring_. Everyone knew that the first time you met the family you brought them a gift- a nice bottle of wine to go with dinner, a box of chocolates for dessert… something. But Lance simply didn’t know. The only wine he drank was boxed, and being a model he wasn’t exactly a chocolate aficionado. (Maybe after he was retired and officially allowed to let his six pack decline into a four pack.)

When he expressed his concerns to Keith in the Uber to Shiro and Matt’s apartment, Keith just gave him a blank stare and said, “Do you want to stop by 7/11 or something? A bodega?”

Lance frowned, “Would bodega wine really be what makes a good first impression?”

Keith hummed, brow furrowed in thought. “You’re right, maybe bodega beer would be a better choice.”

“No no,” Lance shook his head, “That’s _less_ than helpful, Keith.” He let his head fall against the backseat, “Do you ever bring stuff to them?”

“Yeah,” Keith answered, “If it’s in the morning I bring donuts and if I’m coming over for dinner I bring brownies.”

“Does Shiro eat sweet things? Does Matt?”

“Yeah,” Keith shrugged, “They always seem excited to get them.” 

Lance hummed, “I do know of a Mexican grocery near here, we could bring them some of their pastries. Pan dulce is really good with hot chocolate.”

Keith frowned, “Pan Dulce? Is that Cuban? I’ve never heard of it.”

Lance grinned at Keith, “I think it’s Mexican?” He shrugged, “It’s a part of Hispanic culture I will wholeheartedly embrace. Culture is what you make of it.”

They pulled up to Shiro’s apartment fifteen minutes late with all the ingredients for hot chocolate and a box of pan dulce. Lance felt his nerves spike the moment they knocked on the door, but when Shiro opened it with a warm cry of welcome and enveloped Lance into a solid hug, Lance felt his nerves evaporate and he wondered why he’d ever been nervous to begin with. 

Matt was just finished setting the table when they arrived, and after Shiro had gotten drinks for everybody the two couples sat down to a delicious meal courtesy of Shiro’s- and _only_ Shiro’s- kitchen skills. After the perfunctory congratulations on Lance and Keith finishing their latest job, and a few small talk type questions about how life was currently going, Shiro chuckled and said, “You know, when Keith first found out about you, I didn’t think I’d be having you over for dinner less than a year later.”

“Oh?” Lance cocked his head.

“Mm-hm,” Shiro was smiling at Keith fondly, who looked like he was about to bury his head in the side salad. “I remember when Keith first decided to go after you- he assured me it was only for revenge reasons-”

“And it was!” Keith interjected.

“Sure thing, Keith,” Shiro assured him in a tone of voice that was anything but reassuring.

Keith was glaring at his glass like he wanted to make the water boil, but Shiro ignored him and continued on, “When he came to me to tell me his plan, he had a very specific downfall in mind for you.”

“Shiro!” Keith wailed, “You really don’t have to do this!”

Lance put a hand on Keith’s arm, “Wait, let him finish.”

Keith opened his mouth to respond but Lance filled it with a dinner roll. “You were saying, Shiro?”

“I’ll remember this forever,” Shiro grinned, “Because it was such a Keith thing to say. He was telling me his plan for stardom and specifically mentioned that he wanted you ‘stuck in ill-fitting sweatpants that do nothing for your ass for the rest of your days.’” 

“Keith!” Lance shrieked, “How could you ever wish that upon me!” 

The boy in question could only look, unenthused, at Lance, cheeks still stuffed full of yeast bread. 

“That’s a fate worse than death, Keith!”

His boyfriend did nothing but deliberately chew on his dinner roll.

“That’s the worst punishment you could wish on anyone, Keith!” 

Lance’s outburst finished, Keith swallowed his roll and said, “It was an empty threat anyway.”

Lance looked wound up all over again and ready to launch into another outburst but Keith continued, “There’s not a pair of sweatpants out there that your ass wouldn’t look amazing in.”

Shiro and Matt watched the exchange with fondness. Shiro had always wanted this for Keith, but to see his brother actually so happy right in front of him was surprising to say the least.

After dinner, Keith challenged Matt to a game of Battleship, and the dawning horror on Lance’s face as he watched Matt easily agree had Shiro holding back laughter. Clearly, Keith’s boyfriend had already been subject to Keith’s one-of-a-kind Battleship strategy- if it could be called that.

“Don’t worry,” he assured Lance, stirring the milk they had heating on the stove for hot chocolate. “Matt always lets Keith win.”

Lance grimaced into the coffee pot, “Always?”

“Well, not always, but just often enough to keep things interesting.”

“Wow, I didn’t know Matt was a masochist,” Lance mumbled.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Shiro chuckled, pulling out a bread board and grabbing the pastry box. “Matt just knows it’s something familiar for Keith that he enjoys, and he doesn’t want to ruin that.”

“It’s really cute,” Lance began, “The way you guys care for him. Or maybe cute isn’t the right word… heartening. It’s really heartening to see. I’m glad he has you guys.”

Shiro looked up from arranging the sweet breads, “And I’m really glad he has you, Lance. I have to admit, when this whole thing started, I knew better than to talk him out of it, but I also didn’t think it would go anywhere. But it has. It’s gone somewhere I could never even imagine.”

He stepped around the island, pulling Lance in for a hug, “I’m glad he found you.”

Lance sniffed, eyes feeling misty, “Yeah, I,” he cleared his throat, “I’m glad he found me too.”

They rejoined Keith and Matt to just in time to witness Matt’s last ship being sunk. A surreptitious glance from both Lance and Shiro and Keith’s board revealed that Keith had only sustained one hit the entire game. Apparently Matt had made losing challenging for himself.

The dessert conversation flowed just as pleasantly as dinner’s had, Lance finding out a little more about Shiro and Matt’s relationship and being shocked at the fact that they’d never had a ceremony but were in fact legally married.

“Well we got married in school,” Matt explained.

“He didn’t want to wait, popped the question right before my night lab over cold Chinese,” Shiro interjected fondly.

“And we couldn’t even afford rings at the time, much less a ceremony.” Matt continued.

“And without rings or a ceremony,” Shiro said, “Just a trip to the judge’s office with Adam’s signature as witness, it didn’t quite feel proper to call ourselves husbands.”

“But since then we’ve never found the right time,” Matt finished.

“That’s a _travesty_ ,” Lance moaned, “You two are the most married couple I’ve ever met and you don’t even call yourselves husbands or have rings.”

“I don’t really mind,” Shiro placated, “It gives us a way to celebrate our tenth anniversary,” he smiled.

“Oh no,” Lance shook his head, “You are not waiting until your _tenth anniversary_ to get to have a wedding.” He gestured at the two of them with his nearly empty hot chocolate mug, “I’m calling Allura about this, just you wait.”

Shiro gave a hesitant smile, “You really don’t have to go to all that trouble-”

“Shiro,” Keith cut in, looking up from the remains of the pan dulce he’d been scavenging, “Let them throw you a party. They’ll enjoy it.”

As they were saying their goodbyes, Matt threw Keith and Lance a knowing smile and said, “I’ll talk Takashi around, you guys just make sure to keep it small so the big guy won’t feel too awkward.”

Lance grinned, “You got it!” 

But on the Uber ride back to Lance’s apartment, Keith’s boyfriend was texting frantically, and while Keith had a sneaking suspicion Lance’s ‘too much’ gene was kicking in, he didn’t say a single word. 

Hearing Shiro refer to Matt as his husband might be nice. Keith looked over at the love of his life, chewing his lower lip in thought as his thumbs flew across his keyboard. He thought he might enjoy going from partner to husband, too. 

~~~

Both Lance and Keith were back in the swing of things and enjoying the return to normalcy, their TV show taping over and done. By the time final production had wrapped up and PR was releasing trailers for the Blades of Marmora, Keith and Lance had honestly let the project fade to the back of their minds.

Keith had known the show would be big, but he hadn’t known just how big. Lance supposed he should have known- Allura’s business instincts were never wrong- but even he hadn’t expected that with just two teaser trailers out #BladesofMarmora would trend on Twitter for two days straight.

Akira, whose shirtless fight scene had led him to be dubbed #hottiewithabody, had fangirls all over the internet trying to guess who the nameless newbie was, just like PR had hoped. Allura gushed with some corporate executives about how drastic the increase in hype was. Keith started wearing sunglasses and a ball cap to the 7/11. There were already a few posts that had speculated it was Keith Kogane, up-and-coming Altea model, and Keith didn’t want to be in the public eye anymore than he had to be.

When there was only a week left before the premier, Allura let him know that PR had decided it was time for the big reveal. Keith’s interview was a very cut and dry affair in which he very calmly confirmed that he was indeed the actor cast as Akira and that he was also the Red Paladin of Voltron, brand name copyright by Altea. The interview trended on the front page of YouTube for a full sixteen hours, and kept #BladesofMarmora and #hottiewithabody trending on Tumblr for two full days.

The world went wild. Allura couldn’t have planned a better social media campaign herself. She was fielding calls left and right for further interviews and even some other jobs. She turned all of the job offers down and all but two of the interviews, pushing Keith onto talk shows with hosts known for making people feel at ease. Though her favorite masc model might currently be the darling of the public eye, he was still taciturn at best.

In all the whirlwind of TV promo, Allura was making sure that it was Keith and only Keith receiving attention. No one had mentioned Isamu in any interviews, and she’d like it to stay that way. Keith and Lance would announce their relationship when they were ready, and doing it while the world was in love with Keith Kogane’s washboard abs was a less than ideal situation.

However, while Allura was making sure that Keith and Lance were able to stay relatively separate in the eyes of the media, the PR team for the Blades was not. As part of the promotional campaign they released a series of behind the scenes and bloopers shots, in which the now-known Keith Kogane acted very intimate with a lean twink who looked suspiciously like fellow Altea Corp model and international superstar Lance McClain.

Allura’s first strategy was to simply ignore the stirrings of the rumor mill, and after several upset calls to the PR team she knew they wouldn’t take any further action without consulting her, but the damage had been done.

One of the videos showed Lance carding his hands through Keith's hair. Another showed him cradling Keith’s face in his hands. In the third and final installment in the series, there was a moment when Keith had his hands on Lance’s bare hips, the other boy’s tube top doing nothing to stop Keith from whispering into the bare column of Lance’s neck.

The videos were sensational and entirely unexplained, meaning that instead of blowing over, people were only getting more and more curious. The videos were crack cocaine to Keith Kogane’s new fans, and pure ecstasy to Lance McClain’s longtime followers. 

Lance had been surprised when the show trended on Twitter for two days. The hashtag #Klance had been trending on Twitter for five. He’d had to turn comments off on his Instagram because of too many spamming him asking for confirmation as to whether he was dating the #hottiewithabody. 

Keith very apologetically approached Lance and Allura like the unfortunate situation was somehow his fault, but they were both quick to reassure him that wasn’t the case. Keith’s Instagram was solely of his dancing in the studio, and with no other social media accounts he was by and largely spared from the media blitz Lance was subjected to. With his youth team’s hip hop competition looming ever closer, he was glad for the distance.

With the #Klance fiasco firmly at the center of the internet and with no hope of blowing over until after the show finished airing, which could be months from now, Allura knew they’d have to make a statement. They’d tried to ignore it, but Lance’s fans were getting upset that he wasn’t saying anything, and at this point staying silent could only make things worse.

She sent Lance an impressively long list of magazines and media outlets interested in an interview, with several singled out as especially good choices. Lance, out of a misguided desire to not think about the problem and ignore it into oblivion, let the list sit on his coffee table for nearly four days. After all, there was no one else who could tell Lance’s story, right?

But then, on a sunny Friday morning when he was scheduled to have the day absolutely free, Lance woke up to a call from Allura telling him that he needed to check the cover of Vogue, as well as their YouTube channel, because Lotor had gotten to the media first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL HERE'S OUR FINAL BOSS BATTLE, THE BIG BAD, NUMERO UNO. IT'S ALL DOWNHILL FROM HERE!!! SADDLE UP AND SADDLE IN BOYS. Next update will be next Saturday bc I have the chap finished so why the FUCK not.
> 
> (also did anyone else see me shamelessly name drop adam bc uh yeah i already love him)


	38. Fuck It Up Party Panties and Face The Music Bralette Set

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor has a tell-all interview with Vogue where he finally opens up about what really happened between himself and Lance- and it's _bad_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is late but with college starting back my life has been and is continuing to be absolute hell. I'm taking time out from a date with my girlfriend to post this because I've had people nagging for updates, SO Y'ALL BETTER BE THANKFUL.

“First, I have to ask the obligatory question all fashion models get asked: Who are you wearing?”

In front of the crisp white backdrop Vogue used for many of their online exclusives, a columnist dressed with just the right amount of statement opened his interview with the face of Galra Modelling, one of the top dogs of the modelling world, and one of the most cutthroat men in the business.

Lotor, wearing a sharply cut suit with thin lapels and a straight leg in a very flattering indigo, flipped his loose braid over his shoulder, “My personal tailor of choice, Locascio and Ducky. They’re London based, and I trust them with my life- and more importantly, my measurements.”

He gave the interviewer a charming smile that had Lance grimacing as he watched it on his phone screen.

The interviewer, evidently taken with Lotor’s charm, preened at the attention, “Well, they get the Vogue approval, you look simply stunning.”

“Thank you,” he purred, just sincere enough to miss condescending.

Lance wanted to punch Lotor’s stupid sculpted nose in.

The interview started with the bland, obligatory inquiries- current projects, eating habits, least favorite current trend- and then the interviewer asked about his love life.

Lance, having a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, turned the volume on his phone up.

Rather than give the standard non-answer Lance had heard Lotor give many times, even while the two of them had been- whatever they were, Lotor sat back in his chair, looking like he had the weight of the world on his gym-sculpted shoulders.

“My love life… Do you know, I’ve never really talked about it before. But I think it’s time I share.”

Lance almost didn’t want to watch the video. He knew what was about to happen. Allura wouldn’t have called him if Lotor hadn’t been stirring up trouble for Altea once again.

He wondered how long they’d have to wait until he and Keith could go public with their relationship now.

“I have never been in what you might call a relationship.” The tiny Lotor on Lance’s screen continued. “For many reasons. Take your pick really- physically unavailable, emotionally unavailable… And after the last person in my life I fear… not emotionally _capable_ of having a _real, loving_ relationship.”

Oh, the anguish in Lotor’s voice was almost believable. The interviewer clearly believed it, shifting in his chair like he wanted to reach out and give Lotor a Kleenex or something. Lance couldn’t fucking believe it. 

“Lotor,” The interviewer murmured, “Are you trying to tell us there’s a reason we’ve never seen you with someone?”

“Yes,” Lotor said, the admission sounding like it was ripped from him when Lance knew he was probably biting his lip to keep from laughing. “If you’ve loved and lost like I have, you’d understand why I’ve stayed away from love and from relationships.”

“Lotor, I want you to know this is a safe space,” The interviewer replied, “I know you came here today to talk about these things, but if you find yourself unable to continue we’ll gladly turn off the cameras. But, if you’re ready to talk about it, please, tell us… What happened, and with who?”

Lotor took a deep inhale, and Lance clenched his fist on his leg to keep from shutting off his phone. To hear this fucking slimeball manipulating what had happened between them- Lance couldn’t stomach it.

Lotor was completely ignoring the camera that must have zoomed in extremely close for the tear jerking close up they were getting, instead looking only at the interviewer, like he couldn’t bear to make himself any more vulnerable, though Lance knew he was probably laughing in glee at how the reporter in question was eating out of his hand.

“There was… a new model, who started at our company,” Lotor began coyly, “I thought he and I got on rather well. Fantastically, in fact. He and I had a connection I’d never experienced before… But apparently I was the only one who thought what we had was genuine. It turned out that I was, in fact, nothing but a stepping stone to him. He used me, and then when better things came- because of the advantage our relationship had given him, which I should have seen- he moved on. Left. Never showed an ounce of apology for doing so.”

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair like he was totally comfortable, though the exaggerated tenseness in his shoulders and the way he was playing with his hair let everyone know that he was extremely uncomfortable. Except for Lance, he knew that he was playing it up for the cameras in the genius ways that only Lotor could do.

“Lotor, I notice in this story you’re very purposefully keeping names out of it. Is there a particular reason for doing so?”

“I told myself, when I took on this interview, that it was time to make the whole thing public- including names. But I, I find myself reluctant to.” 

He looked down in a move that had his hair falling across his face and Lance let out a soft curse. That was one of Lotor’s best angles. The bastard was really milking it. “I do still have fondness for him. I don’t think the hurt between us will ever go away but-” He smiled at the interviewer, “Lance McClain is such a charming creature I don’t think anyone could ever truly hate him.”

The rest of the interview was a dull background noise to the static calmoring in Lance’s brain. This was bad. This was so, so bad. This was- Lotor was manipulating the story wildly, just enough that it all was technically the truth, but Lotor’s own behavior was never questioned. And he’d done it first, so if Lance tried to speak out, he’d look like he was rejecting the testimony, when honestly if anyone needed a testimonial it was him.

The only thought standing out clearly in his mind against the chorus of ‘fuckfuckfuck’ in the background was that he couldn't believe Lotor still cared about him so much.

~~~

Lotor didn’t care about Lance McClain. He didn’t give a single shit. Which was why, when Axca sent him a discreet hall shot and slightly blurry video, Lotor was ready to just ignore it. He was pissed they were together- not that he wanted Lance to come crawling back to him, if the boy had done so Lotor wouldn’t have given him a second glance- but the idea that Lance had moved on like Lotor had meant absolutely nothing to him- Lotor would not be forgotten. He would not sit idly while they shared vanilla kisses over cheap wine.

He wasn’t happy, but he also wasn’t going to expend effort on Lance McClain. It just wasn’t worth it. Then, however, the trailer for the series dropped, and even more annoyingly that behind the scenes series aired. And suddenly, Keith and Lance were the darlings of the internet. 

Everyone was praising the little lovebirds, giving them their blessing and worshipping the ground they walked on. Lotor had had enough of Lance walking away like he didn’t care about Lotor or what they had together. Seeing Keith and Lance come into the public eye, seeing that painfully intimate moment Axca had captured that showed this was all more than a stunt for the cameras- Lotor wanted to rip it apart. He wanted to take all the baggage Lance had left behind with Lotor and spill it all over so everyone deserted Lance like the upstart model deserved- And Lotor couldn’t wait to sink his teeth in and do just that.

Getting an interview had been easy. Not ever agreeing to interviews meant that when he sought one out the offers came _pouring_ in.

And then, when he’d bared his soul and painstakingly laid Lance open for the entire internet to take a stab at, he sat back, handing out knives for those who wanted to carve a piece. He’d had the lion’s share, and now he was the one to open Lance up for others’ sloppy seconds.

~~~

Lance didn’t know what _the fuck_ to do. It had been two days, and he hadn’t said a word. Not on social media, not through Allura, not in a responding interview- nothing. 

The internet was chaos. People were ripping Lotor apart for his bad timing and for playing the victim. People were ripping Lance apart as a manipulator and a schemer; they were ripping Lance apart for preying on Keith; they were ripping Keith apart for coming to Altea Corp with Lance.

He didn’t know what to do.

Allura said there was only one thing _to_ do. It was time for Lance to go public, for Lance to make a statement of his own, to tell the story he’d always avoided telling.

But that was just it. Lance had spent his entire time since he’d left the Galra very pointedly _not_ talking about it. He didn’t want to remember that experience, didn’t want to remember what he’d felt like. 

He’d chosen to keep that time private, but now, because of Lotor’s skewed publicizing of their relationship, his choice was invalidated. Lance knew Allura was right. He knew that if he didn’t want to be labelled a villain and a cretin he needed to tell his side of the story.

But there was just one problem- he wasn’t sure he could.

~~~

“Hey, you got any plans this weekend?” 

It had been the first call Lance had picked up since this mess had started, and he’d only done it because Keith’s name on his phone screen had made him feel a little warm inside for the first time since since he’d seen the video.

“No, no plans per se,” Lance replied, thinking about how watching watching six seasons of   
Queer Eye and crying his way through a box of Kleenex didn’t really count as plans.

“Well then,” Keith replied, voice kind and hesitant in Lance’s ear, “I was wondering if you would like to go to a hip hop competition this Saturday. The youth team I help out with is competing, and I- I thought you might want. A distraction? A chance to get away and not think about- everything?”

“I- sure,” Lance said, thinking that maybe spending some time outside with his boyfriend would be just what he needed, “But what do I wear?”

Keith snickered, “You’re a fashion model, shouldn’t you know these things?”

Lance huffed, “Well excuse me for not intuitively knowing the dress code for a hip hop competition.”

“Dress in something that Isamu would wear to a dance practice.”

Lance chuckled; their alter egos were coming in handy in ways he didn’t think they would.

On Friday morning as Lance stood staring at his massive closet and wondering just what Isamu would wear to dance practice, he found that channeling the confidence and “no fucks given” of his punk character felt _good_. It felt like slipping on a winter coat after leaving it in the closet for a year- warm, and a perfect fit to weather the rough times ahead.

~~~

Keith had done no less than three headcounts, so he knew for a fact that his team had all made it to the park accounted for. He’d given a spiel about safety, appropriate behavior, and reminded everyone to meet in their practice area a half hour before they were to perform so they could stretch and warm up. For all his hesitations about being the only coach to go to this competition, he thought he was doing pretty well. He was congratulating himself on a job well done when he saw Lance, and he was suddenly very glad none of the teens were around to tease him about the blush on his cheeks.

Lance had taken Keith’s advice about Isamu to heart, wearing black leggings that were completely open up the side with only a lace up detailing keeping them together, hugging Lance like a second skin, and a crop top muscle tank that said “Fucked Up and Fucked Out.” Keith’s own outfit of basketball shorts and the studio’s t shirt commandeered into a muscle tee felt very lackluster by comparison.

Lance had given only a fleeting thought to being caught on camera today, throwing on a pair of mirrored sunglasses and a snapback but not really caring if some sharp-eyed attendee recognized him regardless. At this point, the entirety of the internet was assuming he and Keith were together, and it wasn’t exactly like Lance wanted to prove them wrong. He just hoped no one tried to talk to him if they did indeed recognize him. 

However, his fears were for naught. He met up with Keith, watching his very _very_ attractive boyfriend send off half a dozen teens and tweens to run wild in the people filled park, and then the two of them spent the next hour and a half simply walking around and sharing small talk.

Keith didn’t ask him about the video, he didn’t even bring it up, and Lance hadn’t realized how much he wanted to get it off his mind until he looked up, tears in his eyes from laughing at Keith sneezing cherry slushie out his nose, and finally feeling like himself again.

When it was time for Keith’s team to warm up, Lance was honestly surprised at seeing the caring, gentle and attentive nature that Keith had for all the kids under his wing. He walked around checking stretches and giving last minute tips to some, and to others he gave words of encouragement and soft hugs.

Their performance was amazing, Lance could see Keith’s influence in the crisp choreography and in the aggressive way the teens hit each and every pose with everything they had.

Afterwards, when Keith had handed out waters and had double checked that the kids knew where to meet up again for the awards announcement later that afternoon, he and Lance plopped down in the grass under a tree and took a moment for themselves.

Lance, still surprised at the unexpected side of Keith he’d witnessed today, said, “Out of all the surprising things I’ve learned about you, the fact that you have a job with kids is really up towards the top.”

Keith nodded, feeling a little embarrassed at Lance’s inadvertent praise, “I never would have gotten this job without Shiro’s help.”

He nudged Lance’s shoulder with his own, “Here’s another surprising fact for you, my first job in L.A. was actually at Taco Bell.” 

Lance laughed, “Wait really? I totally can’t see that.”

“Yep,” Keith snorted, “And Shiro pulled the same stunt there that he did at my first Altea shoot. He walked in not a week into my being there and ordered the most convoluted things he could think of. After that I wasn’t the broody emo but rather the cute younger boy with that handsome older brother.” 

Lance slumped over into Keith’s lap, feeling so much lighter because of the laughter he’d shared today. “Thanks for inviting me out today, Keith.”

“Not a problem,” He replied, a hand coming down to card through Lance’s hair, “It’s like I said on the phone- Figured you’d want a distraction.”

“Yeah,” Lance sighed, turning his head to look out over the park and all the kids and adults dancing and laughing, music rising from all over the park and the smell of good food in the air. “I didn’t realize how sick of thinking about it I was until I took a day to not think about it.”

“Hey Lance?”

“Mm?”

“Why don’t you want to respond? Isn’t that what Allura wants you to do? What the internet wants you to do?”

“Allura wants me to share my side of the story- how events really went down.” Lance rolled over, burying his head in Keith’s midriff, “But that means telling the internet about a super personal and super difficult time in my life.” He sighed, resisting the fleeting urge to blow a raspberry into Keith’s bellybutton, “And I don’t want to do that.”

When Lance had rolled over, Keith had shifted from playing with Lance’s hair to running a soothing hand back and forth across his shoulders. Hearing Lance’s admission had Keith feeling a kindred twinge in his own chest at the pain that came from a rough past.

“You know,” He started slowly, haltingly, unsure of what words he wanted to use to share the sentiment he wanted to share, “I spent- a really, really long time not thinking or even talking about all the stuff I left behind in Texas. I’ve been pushing my bad memories away like I thought eventually they’d just leave.”

He paused, letting Lance burrow his head into Keith’s shirt like he wanted to hide from the world, “But you know, if you don’t share those memories, if you don’t think through them and let them pass, they have nowhere to go. They stay bottled up, inside.”

He let his head thunk back against the tree trunk behind him, “I didn’t realize how much power my bad experiences had over me until I got that power back. Sharing my past with you, and owning up to it, was one of the best things I’ve ever done. By telling you my story, I took charge of my past. And I really hope you can do the same thing.”

Lance peeked out, looking up at Keith and seeing only love and acceptance in the gaze reflected back at him.

“Isn’t there some way for you to take ownership of this story? To take all the things about it that have you so chained up and throw them out, so that you’re in charge of them, not the other way around?”

Lance sat up, thoughts racing through his head and a smile on his face, “Yeah.”

He grabbed Keith’s face with both hands and brought him in for a wet, passionate kiss. When he pulled back, Keith looked dazed and flushed, “Yeah, there is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop me a comment if you liked it! Did you think Lotor's interview was appropriately sleazy? What do you think Lance's idea will be?
> 
> I should have the next update out on time, but I have three chapters in this fic left to write (That's right folks, six weeks and then we're done here!) so hopefully I can find time to sit down and tie up the loose ends this fic has hanging. Thank you so much to everyone for reading and making my first fic such a success, and I hope you enjoy this final hurdle for our star crossed lovers.


	39. Cool And Comfy Classic Panty in Heather Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance takes ownership of his story, and then Lance, Keith and Shiro remind us all of why this is tagged as a modeling au.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who is reading every update and witnessing all these emotions in real time- you guys are MVPs and I hope this wild ride has been worth it <3

“Allura, I know what I want to do.”

Allura looked up from her computer to see Lance standing in front of her looking like he’d come straight from the gym. Or the night club. 

“Complete silence from you for multiple days and now you waltz in looking like you never left and announcing you have a plan?” She leaned back in her chair, “I’m curious.”

“Well, I can’t help the fact that Lotor shared our relationship with the public, and in doing so skewed it wildly.” He squared his shoulders and looked at Allura with purpose in his eye. “But I can help what people get from this story. It’s my story too, and I don’t want it to be something other people can wield against me. I want to take ownership of it, and turn it into something other people can use for themselves.”

Allura didn’t even try to hold back the massive smile that broke over her face. This was the side of Lance she loved to see. The kind boy filled with a passion and the will to make a difference. She moved to her computer, fingers hovering over the keyboard, “Who am I contacting, Lance? Who’s letting you tell your story?”

~~~

The day Lance’s side of the story was set to be uploaded, Allura invited everyone into her favorite conference room for a viewing party. Hunk had brought garlic knots, Lance’s favorite, Shiro had brought champagne- when he assured Allura it was nonalcoholic Pidge booed him loudly- and Keith had brought his undying support for his boyfriend.

But Lance might not need it- he didn’t seem anxious at all. He seemed excited more than anything else, bouncing his leg, quipping back and forth with Hunk, and never moving his hand from Keith's. Okay, so maybe he was excited and anxious, but who wouldn’t be?

Keith had, a little embarrassingly, not known what the It Gets Better Project did or why it was significant that Lance had partnered with them. But after watching several of the videos with Shiro, Keith knew this would let Lance say everything he had to say. 

And now, here they all were, Lance’s closest friends, his second family, gathered around to show their support for him as he came before the world to step up and empower young people that might be in his same situation.

When Allura’s phone dinged with the upload notification, they very quickly pulled it up and soon a gentle piano melody was coming through the speakers and Lance could be seen settling into a wingback chair in a cheerily decorated office space.

“Hey guys, I’m Lance McClain and I- Sorry, what am I supposed to say?” The Lance on screen cut off with a laugh, face bright and open.

The camera cut and Lance was settled back in the chair, ready to try again.

“Hi, I’m Lance McClain and I’m here to tell you- it gets better.”

The camera cut again, a three quarters view of his side profile while Lance continued to the camera in front, “I’m nearly thirty, and I’ve been gay for basically as long as I can remember.

“I grew up in Cuba, near Varadero beach, with a very loving family. Came to the states pretty young, lived with my aunt and uncle for the schools here in the U.S., but I spent my summers back home in Varadero.”

The camera cut again, back to the straight on angle, and by now Lance had warmed up and was looking at whoever was interviewing him instead of the camera. 

“Yeah, I’d say I didn’t really have a lot of problems growing up queer- It was really being a Latino boy aspiring to something more than what other people thought I should that gave me problems when I was younger.”

Lance looked down, smiling at his hands held in his lap, “I kept my dreams close to my heart, so classmates and teenhood bullies couldn’t squash them before they had a chance to grow, and as soon as I could- seriously,” he looked up at the camera with a grin, “I was barely eighteen, but Galra modelling had an open casting call and I desperately, desperately wanted to be a Latino face in the world of fashion culture. I didn’t know how exactly, but this modelling call seemed like the perfect opportunity.

“My whole life I’d been so focused on staying out of trouble, making my family proud, keeping my head down and not doing anything that would upset my chances of staying in the U.S. I feel comfortable saying I was still a kid when I went into Galra modelling. I only had one or two friends, I’d never tried any drugs, never gone clubbing- hell, would you believe I’d never worn anything except packs of Hanes for Men?” Lance shook his head, “And, I think pretty obviously, I was still a complete virgin. There’d been a few summer flings but they’d all been nothing but stolen kisses and unfulfilled promises to write.

“So when I signed on to Galra modelling as a boudoir model and Lotor started asking me to lunch, I was ecstatic. Over the moon. I remember thinking to myself, ‘It doesn’t get better than this, Lance. You’ve made it.’”

The camera cut to the side angle again, capturing the curve in Lance’s shoulders as he looked down at his curled hands again. “But, as anyone who’s been in a cutthroat industry knows- young newbies aren’t usually welcomed in with open arms and shown the ropes. No, they’re usually tossed in headfirst and told to sink or swim. And well- Lotor is the closest I have ever come to sinking.

“I fully acknowledge I should have recognized what was going on earlier than I did. I’ve seen enough Telenovellas to know a bad man, but- I was young… and Lotor can be so, so charming. And I was so happy to be in a relationship, any relationship, that when he told me I wasn’t thin enough, that I wasn’t toned enough, that I wasn’t putting out enough or trying hard enough or whatever his pet peeve of the week was- I just thought it was the truth. 

“I didn’t recognize the manipulation, the- the abuse. I didn’t realize how much I’d fallen apart until I woke up in a hospital bed because it had taken a team of nurses and doctors to put me back together.

“The physical health issues were easy to fix. And as soon as my contract with Galra modelling was up I left. I can easily say that signing on with Altea Corp saved my life. If Allura hadn’t taught me-” Lance cut off with a harsh breath, “If Allura hadn’t taught me that it was okay to say no to certain jobs, that it was okay to take rest days and to cheat on my meal plan if it meant I didn’t binge later, that it was okay to not be enough sometimes- I’d have ended up right back at the hospital.

“I didn’t realize how many self destructive behaviors I’d learned until I had to unlearn them. But unlearn them I did. I didn’t do it on my own- no one can,” He looked straight into the camera, “You can’t shoulder everything yourself, and that’s okay. Let your friends help you. They want to.”

He sat back in the chair, looking more at ease. “I was at Altea for a little over a year before I landed a gig with Victoria’s Secret. A year later I was their first male Latino Angel. And now, last year, I walked down the runway in millions of diamonds and pearls and represented el personas de Cuba with all the sensuality and dignity they deserve. And I’m surrounded by loving friends who only ever encourage me to be a better version of myself. And” he cut off again, a long silence holding until he let out another harsh breath and said in a thick voice, “And I wouldn’t know the love of my life, Keith Kogane.

“When I left Lotor, I thought I was broken. I thought I’d never be relationship material. I thought there would be too much wrong with me for anyone to like me. I thought I only had sex appeal and even that was iffy. But, now, over the time I’ve known Keith, I’ve come to realize there are parts of me that he loves that I didn’t even know existed. And if I hadn’t woken up in that hospital bed, I wouldn’t know that.”

He gave a thick swallow and ran his tongue over his lips, giving a steadying breath. “There was a really long time in my life where I thought things wouldn’t get any better, and I thought it was because of me. But today, I wake up every morning knowing each day is going to be better than the last, and I am so so grateful to know that it gets better.”

The video cut to a wide shot of him in his chair in front of the lights and camera and crew. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house, just like there wasn’t a dry eye in the conference room. 

“My name is Lance McClain, I’m the first male Latino Victoria’s Secret Angel, the first femme male to headline a collection for Chanel, the first gay model for Tom Ford, and the Blue Paladin for the Voltron line from Altea. And I just wanna tell you, things get so much better.”

The video ended and Pidge let the room stay in darkness for nearly a full minute before she got up and turned the lights back on.

Shiro and Hunk let out sobs at the same time, Hunk getting up from his chair and swallowing Lance into a bear hug with a watery, “I’m so proud of you, buddy!”

Keith just gave Shiro several firm pats on the back, unable to stop smiling as he was overwhelmed with how proud he was of Lance, how happy he was for him, and just how amazing his favorite model had turned out to be. 

After everyone had dried their eyes and Lance had been passed around to everyone for a hug, Allura cleared her throat and said, “Lance, I’m sure there will be many, many requests for follow up interviews-”

“Forget interviews,” Pidge said, “I want a party. Lance needs a party.”

Lance shook his head, “Nuh-uh, next party spot’s already been claimed. Shiro and Matt never had a wedding- can you believe that?- and we’re going to have a wedding bash.”

“They’ve never had a wedding?” Allura asked, Lance’s media presence momentarily forgotten. “Oh this is just perfect!”

“Allura-” Hunk started, “We all know you enjoy Shiro, but he and Matt are very much married-”

“No no,” Allura waved a hand, “I’m perfectly content to admire the artwork from afar- and trust me, admire I do- but my next collection is wedding themed.”

“What?” shrieked Lance, “How could you break into the wedding scene and not tell me?”

“Well I was going to tell you eventually,” she said, “You and Keith are going to model the lingerie for it.”

“It’s a wedding lingerie line?” Lance’s jaw couldn’t drop any farther. “Talk about exclusivity! Allura you’re running a ready to wear line and now you’re breaking into wedding with a lingerie line?”

She smiled, tapping a finger against her chin, “Are you saying I won’t be able to do it?”

“No,” Lance leaned into Keith’s side, “Knowing you you’ll be launching a handbag line in the spring.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Allura replied with a toss of her hair. “But this is perfect. I wanted shots of a wedding somewhere idyllic, Matt and Shiro can have a real wedding and we can use the photos to promote my line. Lance, my office, thirty minutes, we have a wedding to plan.”

The emotional energy in the room had gone on a rollercoaster, Keith was still gnawing on the same garlic knot he’d picked up before the video had started. 

Shiro looked thunderstruck, standing by the head of the conference table just looking at the door Allura had swept out of.

“You all right there, Shiro?” Keith asked.

“Yeah, I- never better.” Shiro replied dreamily, “Matt and I are having a wedding. I have to go ring shopping. We’re having a wedding.”

Keith chuckled, hip bumping his big brother, “Yeah, you are.”

~~~

While the Paladins were all looking on to their next big project (aka Matt and Shiro Getting Hitched), the world at large was still clamoring about Keith, Lance and Lotor. Lotor had refused all further interviews, and there were rumors within the industry that after being dropped from several gigs in case the drama spiraled and gave the brands bad press, Lotor had cancelled all upcoming jobs for the foreseeable future.

Lance had agreed to one press conference, where he answered a multitude of questions- the most surprising being would he press charges? To which he answered no. Another reporter asked if he expected Lotor to sue, to which Lance also answered no.

He knew that while Lotor enjoyed a spectacle and enjoyed pulling the strings, he hated hassle and heavily involved ordeals. That had been one of the reasons why the Galra model had been content to keep Lance on his arm, but never in his heart.

After nearly an hour of fielding inquiries, Allura announced they were through and asked Lance if he had any final remarks.

All Lance said was this, “Our relationship was an unhealthy one, for reasons that stemmed from both parties. I’m happy to say I’ve moved on and found a loving partner in someone else. I hope Lotor can do the same.”

That quote was the headline on every newsite, paper and magazine for the next week. Lance felt so light, feeling like he was finally able to truly be free and move on. Allura told him she’d never seen him be truer to the Lance McClain she knew he could be. 

After another two and a half weeks with no news from Lance, who was busy with new projects, or from Lotor, who’d gone to ground without a trace, the press turned their attention to a different scandal, leaving Altea Corp to return to their old shenanigans.

“I’m telling you, Allura,” Lance slammed his fist on the table, “Keith only needs to be in charge of one thing- the bachelor party!”

“Actually,” cut in Shiro, a wince on his face despite the delicious mimosa sitting on the table before him, “I don’t trust him with a bachelor party. Lance, you’re doing it.”

“Shiro, dude,” Lance set his fork down and fixed Shiro with an earnest look, “It’s a brother’s rite of passage to plan a bachelor party for his number one bro.”

“Keith has also never planned any kind of party before in his life and I don’t trust him not to just show up with brownies and a copy of Titanic.”

“Why would he bring Titanic?” Hunk asked bemusedly.

“Is your movie of choice Titanic?” Allura echoed.

“That’s not the point,” Shiro said, the tips of his ears going pink. “Lance will you at least- help Keith out? Make sure he can- can execute his ideas.”

“All right, all right,” Lance shrugged and tipped his chair back, “Say no more, I’ll supervise Mullet McGee- he’d probably be helpless without me.”

~~~

“Are you sure this is what Shiro wants to do?” Lance asked- and not for the first time. He and Keith were sitting on Lance’s couch waiting for Shiro before they started Shiro’s party. Although, Lance wasn’t sure if you could call it a party if there were only three people, and they were all staying at home. He was pretty sure that was just hanging out. But when he’d asked Keith about what they should do for Shiro’s last shebang as a single man, there had been zero hesitation when Keith announced that this was the absolute best thing that could happen to Shiro. 

“For the last time, Lance, just trust me. Shiro’s gonna keel over from happiness.” 

Before Lance could point out that if Keith was wrong this was going to be the most lackluster bachelor party in existence, there was a knock at the door and Keith was shooing him over to greet the man of the hour.

“Hey Shiro!” Lance cheered, gathering Shiro in a friendly hug and watching as the other man took in the apartment for the first time. “You find the place okay?”

“Yeah,” Shiro replied, “It really is just as close to Keith’s place as he told me, I’m surprised- but more surprised at the fact that my bachelor party is being held at your apartment- Or are we going out somewhere else?”

“Nope,” Lance answered, watching Keith stand behind Shiro and shift from foot to foot with excitement. “But I would like for you to follow me.”

Shiro went obligingly, albeit a little bemusedly, Lance leading him to one of the multiple innocuous white doors at the end of the hall.

“Takashi Shirogane,” Lance began, “I have you to thank for my wonderful relationship with Keith. It was through your love of all things lingerie that Keith decided to bring me shame and ruin, and for that I’m eternally grateful.”

Shiro’s eyes were very wide with surprise, and only went wider when Keith voiced what he had to say.

“Shiro, when Lance told me to plan your bachelor party, I immediately knew something that you’d absolutely love to do but would never actually ask for.”

Lance, with a half grin, opened the door to the full size room where he kept his collection of lingerie and said, “Shiro, welcome to my closet.”

The look on Shiro’s face instantly assured Lance this had been the right way to commemorate the occasion. Shiro walked in with an almost worshipful look on his face, stepping softly like even his sock feet on the shag carpet might make too much noise. He glanced around, taking in the floor to ceiling closets and and custom drawers, the free standing bodices and dress forms covered in leather corsets, exclusive lace teddies studded with semi-precious gems, sets of softcore bondage gear with soft harnesses, evocative garters, and several eye catching collars.

Shiro had owned his aesthetic appreciation of lingerie for a long time. Seeing all of this beauty in person made that aesthetic appreciation come roaring back to life with more passion than it had ever had. Walking around the large center display, Shiro caught sight of a glass case on the back wall. He couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp as he rushed forward, barely stopping himself from touching the case.

“Lance, this is your fantasy bra,” Shiro murmured, “Angels don’t keep their bras, how is this here?”

“That’s because it’s a much cheaper recreation of it.” Lance walked up to stand beside Shiro, “Well, maybe ‘relatively cheaper’ is a better term. They’re Swarovski crystals instead of diamonds. And a much lower grade of pearl.”

“Wow,” Shiro breathed. “I- this is all gorgeous but. What am I supposed to do with all of this?”

“Tonight, Shiro, my underwear is yours!” Lance announced. “The wardrobes lining the back wall are filled with extra sizes of all the pairs in my drawers- the advantages of being a PR rep you know. Tonight you get to be the Angel, Shiro.” 

Shiro’s eyes looked dangerously misty so Keith stepped over and punched him in the arm, “No need to get so emotional, bro, we know you love us. We love you too. But don’t cry on the underwear, it’s silk. You can cry once you’re done here, we didn’t mean for you to spend your bachelor party leaky-eyed.”

“I wasn’t going to cry, Keith, but your concern is appreciated.” Shiro looked around, “Where do I start?”

“Well bra and panty sets are all along the front of the room, panties are in the left drawers, organized by cut and then brand and then color, bras are hanging in the left side cabinets, organized the same, and on the right side of the room are the various teddies, baby dolls, body suits and sets. Long robes are hanging in some of the floor to ceiling cabinets, with masques and accessories above and below.”

Lance clapped his hands together like he hadn’t just casually downplayed hundreds of thousands of dollars in lingerie, “So have fun!”

Keith didn’t think his eyebrows could climb any higher, and Shiro was wondering if there was anywhere he could take a moment and pay his respects to the gods that had made this happen.

Lance started to blush, “Is it too much? Is this weird?”

“No, no,” Keith reassured him, “We’ve just never seen the closet of a supermodel before.”

Shiro hastened to agree with him and Keith ushered Lance over to a pair of plush overstuffed armchairs sitting in front of a huge vanity covered with makeup and jewelry. With the two of them out of the way, Shiro meandered over the set of drawers closest to him and opened the top drawer. Pulling out a silky black panty that slipped like water through his hands Shiro cut his eyes over at Lance.

“I think I recognize this pair. Didn’t you do a pool shoot in the south of Spain for-”

“Fleur of England?” Lance finished, “Yes I did. You have a good memory.”

A few drawers over Shiro gasped and dropped the garter he was holding back into the drawer, “I didn’t know you’d modelled for La Perla!”

Lance nodded, “That was something Allura hooked up for me. They did a his and hers black and white collection and apparently they thought my skin would really pop against the white. Though they liked me a lot in the black too. I think there’s a baby doll hanging in the top half of that cabinet.”

The three had a good time that night, Shiro picking Lance’s mind about the shoots he’d done and seeing all the beautiful things Lance had collected over his career, eventually agreeing to try on some Agent Provocateur pieces. When Keith stumbled upon Lance’s custom Catherine D’Lish robe- a huge Marabou with billowing bell sleeves and the softest fur trimmings in a beautiful light blue- they of course hustled Shiro into it, and after Lance brought out the drinks they fell into a giggly impromptu photo shoot and dress up night. They took silly, slightly tipsy selfies, throwing lingerie sets at each other with laughing encouragements to ‘go put it on! Go go go!’

Shiro’s military physique and generally masculine presentation meant he’d never gotten to do anything even remotely close to this, but standing patiently while Lance spread the D’Lish robe around him and then ran to his camera for some photos felt… fun. Light hearted. Easy and soft in a way Shiro had never gotten to experience before. Keith was right, this was something he never would have chosen for himself, but he was infinitely grateful to Keith for asking Lance to do this. Even if Shiro wasn’t one to buy lingerie, playing dress up like this was definitely on of the funnest nights he’d had in a long time.

Finally, some time that was closer that was closer to early morning that late night, Shiro Keith and Lance had collapsed in Lance’s bed, all of them wearing silky PJ’s and fluffy robes and hissing to each other to go turn the bathroom light off. They were tipsy, Lance’s lingerie room was a disaster zone, and Lance had filled a memory card and a half with pictures of the three of them prancing around like giggly idiots in thousands of dollars in lace and chiffon.

“You ready to get married, Shiro?” Lance whispered.

“You ready to put on a wedding, Lance?” Shiro whispered back.

“Hell yeah. I’ve been waiting for this since I attended my first wedding back when I was like twelve.”

Shiro chuckled, “And I’ve been ready to marry Matt since the first time he came in to see me patching Keith up and just stepped right in to help.”

“Shuddup,” Keith murmured, “You’re bein’ soft. It’s gross.”

Shiro rolled over and snagged Keith into a headlock, giving him a vicious noogie. Keith shrieked and jabbed his fingers under Shiro’s arm, making his brother seize up in a laughing fit and let him free.

They fell asleep way too late, after an evening spent being childish and carefree, and while it was far from what most men would envision for a bachelor party, Shiro wouldn’t have had it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voltron fandom: *finds out Shiro is gay*  
> Voltron fandom: omg imagine him making it gets better videos  
> Me, banging pots and pans together: YOU COWARDS, LET LANCE DO IT TOO  
> I just really liked that fandom idea and I definitely wanted Lance to do it :D 
> 
> This scene of Shiro trying on Lance's lingerie has been in my outline since this was a little five point baby outline for a one chapter drabble- I know this fic morphed massively away from that, but I wanted it anyway. And besides, I have had so many convos w people on insta about our paladins in lingerie (anyone seen that zine? Blessed content) that I wanted to holla back and really revel in all that beauty again. Researching all the brands was so much fun, it reminded me just how much I've loved writing a fashion au!
> 
> I have two big upcoming projects in the works and a couple one shots planned (one that's part of a zine, wow!!!) but they're still very far off because I'm in an upper level writing class and we're taking the semester to try and build a novel, so I won't have a lot of energy for my own personal writing endeavors. But!! If you would like to read what's coming next, I'll be giving more info on them at the end of this fic and you can subscribe to my author page and know when the next works debut!
> 
> Anyway, that's a lot of rambling but. Just know that I love you all, your support means so much to me, I appreciate you all, and I hope you liked the chapter :D


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